the weight of ghosts
by adventurous-wonderland
Summary: Mito comes to Konoha as a sacrifice, not a bride. / AU, eventual TobiMito
1. dust-breather, star-eater

dust-breather, star-eater

Her brother sends her to Konoha when she is nineteen years old. _Only an Uzumaki can contain the Kyuubi,_ he says. _I send you because I know you are strong_. She wants to say _our father would not have done this to me_ , but she knows that doesn't matter. Her father is three years dead, and no one can save her now. Her brother says he is rewarding her for her strength. Mito knows the truth: she is a threat to his power, and so he has sent her as a lamb to the slaughter, a sacrifice for Konoha's altar. How many soldiers has her brother, the newest Namikage, sent to show his "friendship" to the Senju clan? Mito is just the latest tribute, and… and she would be lying if said she didn't hate her brother for it.

There is a white-haired man waiting by the village gate. _Senju_ , Mito thinks numbly. She recognizes his face – she's spent the two long weeks from Uzushio studying the faces and names of Konoha's influential. It takes her a moment to remember his name: _Tobirama_ , the Hokage's younger brother. He offers a smile that is closer to a grimace, and Mito's heart sinks to her stomach. "Uzumaki-san. Welcome to Konoha." He holds his hand out. Mito stares at the offered hand until he lowers it, his pitiful attempt at a smile turning to a frown.

"Uzumaki-hime," she corrects him softly. "Or Uzumaki-sama, if you prefer." She sees his guards stiffen, but Tobirama's lips twitch upwards, and she catches the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes before he turns away.

"Of course, Uzumaki-hime," he says. Tobirama glances over his shoulder at her, one white eyebrow arched. "Follow me, if you would. Anija is waiting."

Mito follows Tobirama through the village, frowning at the dust that stains the hem of her silk furisode. The streets are crowded, and Mito keeps her eyes fixed on Tobirama's back, between his shoulder blades. She feels the villagers' eyes on her, hears their whispers of _Jinchuuriki_ as she passes. Finally, Tobirama leads her through a stone archway into what she assumes is the Senju compound.

Tobirama leaves Mito in the large receiving room, kneeling on the tatami mats. She stares at the rice straw, counting the breaths she takes to calm her racing heart. She has never been so uncertain about her future. Everything in Uzushio had been simple, constant: she had been sure of her father's love, sure of her people's adoration, and, before her father's untimely passing, she had been sure that she would one day become the Namikage. But now, her fate lay in the hands of Senju Hashirama, a man she had never met.

"Ah, Uzumaki-sama!"

Mito flinches at the sudden sound, falling backwards in an undignified sprawl. She blinks up at the dark-haired, tan man standing above her, heat filling her cheeks. Behind the stranger is Tobirama, who simply sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. The stranger at least has the decency to look abashed, and holds his hand out to help her up. Mito eyes his hand for a moment before standing without accepting his silent offer of assistance. She is nineteen, the princess of Uzushio, and very aware that she has only ever touched a man in battle.

"Forgive my brother," Tobirama says drily. Both men keep their eyes averted as Mito straightens her furisode and runs her fingers through her messy hair.

"Senju-sama," Mito says finally, bowing low. If this is Tobirama's brother, then this is Senju Hashirama, the renowned God of Shinobi, the man who now owns her.

"Can I offer you anything? Tea, or a meal perhaps?" Hashirama's voice is bright and smooth. For a moment, she believes that he means her no harm. But reality crashes down all too soon, and the bitter cold that has filled her since leaving Uzushio weighs her shoulders down.

"Your kindness," she says quietly – and she hates it, how meek and lowly she sounds, like a terrified child, not at all the kunoichi she trained to be – "while appreciated, Senju-sama, is wasted on me. I did not come here blindly expecting friendship."

The room is silent for ten heartbeats, twelve, and then: "So." Hashirama's voice has lost its cheer, become serious with a cold undertone that makes Mito shiver. "You will become our Jinchuuriki, then?"

Mito's smile is a sad and broken, but neither Senju says anything about the traitorous tears that threaten to fall. "You make it sound as though I have a choice. I will do as my brother has commanded, no less."

Something like pity flashes in Hashirama's eyes, but he is quick to disguise it. "Very well. Tobirama, take her to one of the guest rooms to prepare; I will go find Madara – we will hold the ceremony at sundown." He nods once, then leaves the room silently. All at once, the enormity of what she has agreed to hits Mito, and she falls to her knees. Tobirama makes no move to catch her; he watches, impassively, as she kneels one the floor, clutching her chest and willing the frantic pounding to stop. Her breath comes in harsh gasps and this, _this_ is what panic feels like. She's panting but it feels like she's not breathing at all, the weight on her chest is crushing, and the world is spinning around her.

* * *

When her breathing calms and she is able to stand again, Tobirama leads Mito to one of the many bedrooms. Her things have all been deposited by her guards from Uzushio – guards who have long since disappeared, abandoning her to the mercies of the Senju brothers. Mito doesn't know how to feel – she thinks that maybe, she should feel betrayed, or lonely, or abandoned, but she hasn't been able to feel much of anything since her father's funeral. Since Kenshin had ordered her to become the vessel for the Kyuubi, to die on Konoha's altar and be reborn again as a weapon for Konoha.

Mito bathes, grateful for the distraction the scalding water provides. When she steps out of the bathing pool, her skin is red and raw, and the scars on her wrist are all the more visible because of it. She dresses slowly. She's worn a junihitoe only a few times before, and the fabric sits heavily and uncomfortably on her shoulders. The junihitoe is beautiful; twelve layers of exquisite silk, embroidered by Uzushio's greatest craftsmen, but Mito hates it. Her father had it made for her before he died, a gift from a doting father to his beloved daughter. Her brother insisting she wear it here is a mockery of her father's affection.

She leaves her hair loose. It falls to her waist in crimson waves, hiding her face and providing a welcome barrier between her and the rest of the world. Mito examines her reflection in her small hand mirror, frowning at the pallor and thinness that has grown more apparent in recent days. She paints her lips and cheek with rouge, lines her eyes with kohl.

Tobirama is waiting in the hallway when Mito exits her room. His eyes are closed, and Mito takes the opportunity to examine his face. He is a study in angles, from the high arch of his cheekbones to the slant of his eyes to the comma of his lithe body leaning against the wall. His eyes flash open, red meeting startled violet.

"It's time," is all he says. Mito follows him down the dark hallways and out into Konoha. Dusk has arrived, painting the wooden city in shadows. Dread makes the walk seem longer – all Mito can hear is the pounding of her heart.

Finally, they arrive in a clearing, and Mito's heart stops. She takes a faltering two steps past Tobirama, staring ahead even as terror turns her blood to ice and her hands begin to tremble. Hashirama and two other men stand talking, but that is not what captures her attention. Restrained by wooden chains is the Kyuubi, in all its hateful glory. Malicious chakra oozes off of it, and Mito feels suddenly nauseous.

"Uzumaki-sama," Hashirama greets. The two men beside him fall silent and turn to her, twin sets of red-and-black eyes sizing her up. The resemblance between them makes Mito think they are brothers: they both have pale skin and chiseled features. And both of them are eying her with obvious distrust. "This is Uchiha Madara, and his brother Izuna. They will keep the Kyuubi calm as I seal it in you."

Hashirama steps forward, and Mito stumbles backwards a step. She slams into the hard plane of Tobirama's chest, flinching as his hands come up to steady her. She steps forward, away from the surprisingly steady warmth of the younger Senju. "You will _not_ ," she hisses, "touch me." Hashirama's eyes widen, and she can hear Tobirama's surprised intake of breath.

The Uchiha brothers go very still and then, suddenly, Madara laughs, loud and darkly amused. His voice is rough when he speaks, and it seems to Mito that even the trees stop to listen. "Let the fuinjutsu master handle the sealing," he advises. Hashirama opens his mouth to say something, but Madara silences him with a shake of his head. "Later," he murmurs, almost too softly to be heard.

"Fine," Hashirama says. "Let the ceremony begin." He forms a few hand seals and a stone altar rises from the ground in the center of the clearing. As Mito approaches it, she can't help but feel as though she's walking to her grave. She's studied the necessary seals for weeks, made improvements as she discovered flaws, and she knows that this will work.

And that's what terrifies her.

She lays back on the altar and stares up at the darkening sky. Hashirama's voice cuts through her panic, soft and calm by her ear. "I'm going to release the Kyuubi now, Uzumaki-sama. Madara will keep it docile, but the Sharingan isn't strong enough to hold it for long."

"I understand," she whispers. Hashirama presses a brush into her hand, and heat blooms in her cheeks as she realizes what must come next. She cannot paint the seals over her clothing. Mito sits up, her hands trembling with embarrassment now, rather than fear. She reaches for the kaiken at her side and slashes her junihitoe open, exposing her stomach and praying to whatever gods are listening that the four men around her are not watching.

Taking a deep breath, she begins to paint the seals that are burned into her memory. Seals to bind and to control. She can feel the moment they begin to work, drawing the Kyuubi's chakra into her. She gasps, then bites her lip so hard that blood fills her mouth and spills down her lips. The Kyuubi is full of malice and hatred, and while Mito has heard stories, she is entirely unprepared for the reality of it.

 _Foolish child_ , a voice that is not her own roars. Mito screams, clutching her head and curling into herself. _You dare think yourself capable of imprisoning a god? You will bleed for this, foolish child! Your blood will boil, your bones will turn to ash. Release me, or I will show you the pain of divinity. You will know the taste of sorrow, your people will know grief before they are slaughtered in their homes –_

And then cool hands are touching her face, and the voice fades away. " – I need a healer, quickly!" Someone is shouting. Mito opens her eyes slowly, groggily, and it is Tobirama holding her in his lap, one arm wrapped securely around her waist and his other hand cupping her cheek, pressing her face gently against his shoulder. Tobirama looks down, and Mito is surprised to see fear in his eyes. When he realizes that she is awake, all emotion smooths away. "Uzumaki-hime," he murmurs, and his voice is rough and low and makes her shudder. He allows her to sit up when she pulls away.

* * *

They are alone in a room that is certainly not the one that Mito was led to earlier – this room is clearly lived in, with a messy futon and scrolls scattered about in a sort of organized chaos. Mito wipes her eyes and is only slightly surprised when they come away bloody. "What happened?" she asks, and her voice sounds hoarse even to her own ears.

"You lost consciousness," Tobirama explains. The arm around her waist tightens, and Mito flushes. She's still in his lap, and her clothing is shredded – indecent indeed. "The Kyuubi was sealed successfully, but we had not anticipated the side-effects of the process." At her questioning glance, Tobirama elaborates, "The Kyuubi has a much stronger consciousness than we had been led to believe."

"He's in my head," she whispers, presses the heels of her palms to her eyes. "I can feel him now, watching." Her voice rises an octave as she speaks. "He's in my head, I want him out, I want him _out_!"

"Uzumaki-hime," Tobirama seizes her wrists in one hand, pulling them away from her eyes. "Uzumaki-hime, please calm down."

Mito can feel the scream building up. She chokes it down, sobbing as the Kyuubi's chakra rises to the forefront of her mind again. The door bangs open and Hashirama skids in, followed by a medic. Hashirama says something to Tobirama, but everything sounds far away, muted. Mito squeezes her eyes shut, covers her mouth with a hand as she tries to stifle her sobs. She feels herself being lifted, her head lolls back against Tobirama's shoulder, and then she slips into unconsciousness.

* * *

Note: This is a short chapter, kind of an introduction. To clear some things up: This is an au in which Mito only went to Konoha _after_ the Kyuubi attacked (in this case, without Madara controlling it) in order to serve as the Jinchuuriki.

Obviously I made some stuff up, since not a lot of information is given about Uzushiogakure: their kage in this is the Namikage (Nami means wave), and is Mito's older brother, Kenshin. Also it's like 3 am so this might not make sense but oh well.

Reviews are appreciated! This is going to be a TobiMito fic eventually okie bye


	2. poet with vicious hands

poet with vicious hands

* * *

Mito regains consciousness slowly. It's a gradual awakening, like swimming to the surface of a still lake. Her mind is blessedly quiet, for the first time in the two weeks since she became the Jinchuuriki. She opens her eyes slowly and stares at the ceiling, willing herself to get up. The motivation doesn't come; it hasn't, for the past two weeks. For the first week, she had stayed in bed all day. The first three days, she had refused all food and drink.

She hasn't seen Tobirama since waking up the first night. Hasn't dared to ask anyone about his whereabouts. She thinks of his cold fingers on his face, of his low voice murmuring her name. She'd slipped in and out consciousness that night, but each time she awoke, Tobirama had been there, holding her tightly. She was still in the room Tobirama had carried her to that night, curled in the futon on the floor. She'd read through some of the scrolls scattered around the room, in her rare moments free of the agonizing headaches that had plagued her since becoming the Jinchuuriki.

Sighing heavily, Mito sits up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looks around the room, just as she has every morning, and wonders, for the millionth time, whose room she's occupying. There's a gentle knock on the door, and Mito closes her eyes, wincing as the sound makes her aching head pound painfully. "Come in," she calls quietly.

The door slides open and Toka walks in, her long brown hair tied in a pristine topknot as always, her armor freshly shined and her lips painted a pretty shade of plum. Toka crosses the room in a few quick steps, then kneels beside Mito's futon and sets down a tray of food. Mito knows exactly what's on it without looking: rice porridge and a cup of green tea. It's all she's been able to stomach since arriving. "How are you feeling today?" Toka asks, her musical voice filling the room.

"Better," Mito lies. Toka shoots her an entirely unimpressed and unconvinced look. "Really," Mito says earnestly. "I'm feeling better today!"

Toka snorts and sets the tray across Mito's lap. "Eat," she orders. Mito sighs and sips her tea, wrinkling her nose at the porridge. Her stomach rolls unpleasantly. Food isn't an option at the moment, then. Toka stands, picking up scrolls and sliding them back onto the shelves that line the walls.

Mito drains her tea and pushes the porridge away. "Toka-san," she begins hesitantly, "Who's room is this?"

Toka pauses. Then she shrugs. "Tobirama's," she says easily. "He brought you here after…" she trails off. "After."

"Where has he been staying?" Mito asks quietly. She feels guilty immediately; she should have realized that this room belonged to Tobirama. After all, only Tobirama, Hashirama, and Toka live in this house.

"He's been out," Toka says, sitting cross-legged by Mito. "He and Izuna went to meet with representatives from the Hyuuga Clan, but he'll be back today." She looks around the room, considering. Mito makes to stand, but it immediately pushed back down – albeit gently – by Toka. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" the Senju demands.

"I should give Senju-sama his room back." Mito blinks up at Toka, uncomprehending. "This is a family room," she explains. "I cannot in good conscience stay in a room that does not belong to me."

Toka snorts. "You're staying here, Mito-sama. You're unwell, and even if Tobirama wanted to return to his own room –"

"I assure you, cousin, I have no such plans."

Mito looks up, eyes widening as she takes in Senju Tobirama, leaning in the doorway. His clothes are dusty from travel, his face smudged with dirt, and amusement simmers in his red eyes. Toka is immediately on her feet and stalks over to Tobirama. "Good," she purrs, looking Tobirama up and down. Mito recognizes the protectiveness beneath the amusement in Toka's eyes – the older Senju is looking for any sign of injury. "Mito-sama is still recovering, she needs lots of rest." Toka turns back to Mito, a frown marring her pretty features. "Have you finished eating?" Mito nods mutely, and Toka walks back to her side, her frown deepening as she sees the full bowl of porridge. "You didn't eat anything," she says flatly.

"I had tea," she whispers, avoiding both Toka's worried gaze and Tobirama's curious one.

Toka sighs, sinking to her knees beside Mito. "You won't recover if you don't eat," she points out. She holds the spoon to Mito's lips. "Eat. Please."

Her eyes dart to Tobirama. He is watching her impassively, his arms crossed over his chest. Mito lowers her eyes again, her cheeks flushing. To add to the embarrassment of being fed – honestly, she's nineteen, and while that might be younger than Toka's twenty-seven, she is not a child! – Mito doesn't think she can stomach even plain porridge. "I'll be sick," she murmurs, embarrassed.

Understanding lights Toka's eyes, and she sets the porridge aside. "You're still nauseous? Should I call for the healer?" Toka's worry is soothing, even if it makes Mito feel even guiltier. Her mother is fourteen years dead, and Mito barely remembers her, but Toka's concern brings to mind faint memories of her mother's hand in her hair, of soothing lullabies sung to ease her into sleep.

The thought of her mother reminds Mito of Kenji, and her eyes fill with sudden tears. They slip down her cheeks, hot and heavy, and Mito is too lost in her grief to be embarrassed, even as Tobirama kneels beside Toka, worry creasing his brow. Kenji is only fourteen, and without Mito, who does he have? Kenshin has never been the older brother they needed him to be, and worry consumes Mito. Is Kenji eating alright? Is he sick, is he scared without her, is he sleeping well at night?

"Mito-sama, what's wrong?" Toka takes her hand, leans forward to lay her other hand across Mito's forehead, checking for a fever.

"I'm sorry," Mito whispers, wiping her eyes and pulling away from Toka's gentle touch. "I don't know what came over me." The lie is easy, and Mito slips back into the role she has played since her father's death with ease. Shame fills her, but she pushes it down, makes sure to keep her face smooth and untroubled. Mito knows what she needs to do – the time for wallowing in self-pity is over, and she needs to accept the truth: she is in Konoha, for better or for worse, and she is a Jinchuuriki.

She is also an Uzumaki, and even if she hates Kenshin, he is her kage, and she has orders. So she will be diplomatic and she will smile, and she will charm the ever-loving hell out of the Senju so that their alliance with Uzushio persists.

So she draws herself up, straightens her shoulders, and smiles at Toka, a few stubborn tears still slipping down her cheeks. "Toka-san," she says softly, "I'd like to speak to the Hokage."

* * *

The Hokage's office is well-lit and warm, and Mito immediately hates it. It doesn't help that she and Hashirama aren't alone: the two other men from the clearing are there, the Uchiha brothers. She's grateful that Toka made her take the time to bathe and helped her dress in a furisode embroidered with plum blossoms. Her still-wet hair is pulled up into a bun and pinned with a jade hairpin.

"Uzumaki-sama," Hashirama says, a smile lighting his face. Mito hates that smile, hates Hashirama – she can't tell anymore if the hate is hers or the Kyuubi's, but it rises up in her like a living thing, fills her lungs like smoke, she's choking on it, drowning in it. "How can I help you?"

"Actually, Hokage-sama," she says, proud of her steady voice and steady hands, "I mean to ask you the same question." She kneels, silk fanning around her. She counts her breaths, waits for the hate to subside and the throbbing in her head to abate. She raises her head and squares her shoulders, meets Hashirama's curious gaze head on, ignores the curious gazes of Tobirama, Madara, and Izuna, and says, "I am your Jinchuuriki, Hokage-sama. I am yours to command."

"You can't be serious." Madara steps into view, scowling. His dark hair is wild, and he, too, is wearing armor. Mito raises an eyebrow. "You may be Jinchuuriki, girl, but you can't honestly think that we're stupid enough to make use of you. You're unstable. This is the first time you've been out of your room in a fortnight."

Mito bites her tongue to keep silent and waits for Hashirama to speak. "I am," he says slowly, "inclined to agree with Madara."

Behind her, Izuna coughs, poorly disguising his mumbled "When do you not?"

Madara growls, and Hashirama coughs lightly, hiding a smile behind his hand. Then his expression smooths out, and he looks back to Mito. "Until you have the Kyuubi firmly under your control, you are…" he pauses, considering.

"You are useless," Madara finishes.

Hashirama grimaces. "Exactly," he agrees. "A bit insensitive, perhaps, but I'm sure you see my reasoning, Uzumaki-sama."

"And how do you expect me to gain control without practice?" Mito asks, her temper flaring.

Whatever Hashirama is going to say is lost as a rough voice interrupts. "I'll take responsibility for her." Mito turns to stare at Tobirama, her eyes wide.

"I'm in, too," Izuna says, stepping forward. He glances at Tobirama and some sort of understanding passes between them. Tobirama nods, once, and then both men return to staring at Hashirama. "You can hardly argue with that, anija. A Senju _and_ an Uchiha – we'll be able to keep her safe and under control."

Hashirama raises his eyebrow, and a silent conversation ensues between him and Madara. After a moment, he sighs. "Spend some time training within the village limits first," he says. "I'm trusting your judgement, Tobirama."

"Thank you, anija." Tobirama steps forward and grabs Mito's wrist, pulling her off the floor. She stumbles, half-falling against him, and then Izuna is at her other side, taking her elbow gently and steadying her.

The two lead her out of Hashirama's office and out into a training ground, never slowing. Tobirama's grip on her wrist is almost bruising, and the heat of Izuna's breath on her neck brings color to her cheeks. As soon as they reach the empty field, Tobirama releases her wrist like he's been burned. Izuna steps away and flops onto his back, staring up at the sky with a pleased smile on his face.

"That went better than I expected," Izuna says, crossing his arms under his head. "I think the only thing that made them suspicious was my agreeing with you."

Tobirama huffs, amused. "I'm sure Toka will divert suspicion for us."

The two lapse into a comfortable silence. Mito, standing halfway between the two, frowns. Her earlier resolution to be the perfect Uzumaki diplomat forgotten, she glares at Tobirama and demands, "What went better than expected?"

Izuna laughs, and the sound is so free and carelessly joyful – it reminds Mito of the seabirds she had watched as a child, soaring out to sea without a care in the world. "Tobirama and I have need of the Jinchuuriki's… unique talents."

"Hashirama is an optimist," Tobirama adds. "And Madara enables him. They tend to ignore potential threats in favor of forming alliances."

"And you want me to take care of these potential threats before they cause problems," Mito says slowly. She can see the benefits of such an arrangement quite easily – she gets to adjust to the extra chakra and unforeseen emotional instability brought on by the sealing, and Tobirama and Izuna ensure that their brothers' dream remains intact. "It's a good plan," she allows, "but the Kyuubi is proving a stronger influence on my thoughts than I had previously anticipated."

"If you're worried about hurting civilians, there's no need. Izuna and I will be with you at all times to make sure nothing goes wrong." Tobirama walks past her, not even sparing her a glance as he sits beside Izuna. Somehow, he still manages to look dignified, even sprawled in the dirt beside the Uchiha.

"And if I hurt you?" Mito questions.

Tobirama and Izuna share a glance before the latter bursts into laughter. Tobirama doesn't laugh, but the amused twitch of his lips bothers Mito more than Izuna's obvious disbelief. "I'm sure that won't be a problem," Tobirama says, and he sounds almost smug.

"No one beats Tobirama." Izuna tells her. "Not for lack of trying."

Tobirama looks up at her, amusement still lighting his red eyes. "Do we have a deal, Uzumaki-hime? Your help on missions in exchange for time away from the village?"

Mito sinks to her knees beside Izuna. "When do we start?" she asks, tilting her head up to look at the clouds like Izuna. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Tobirama smile and pretends her heart doesn't flutter.

* * *

That night, for the first time in years, Mito dreams.

She dreams that she is standing outside a prison cell – at least, the thinks it is a prison. The far wall is iron bars, with rough stone on either side. Behind her, a mist of darkness stretches. Cold water laps at her ankles. On the other side of the bars, something stirs.

"Foolish child," the Kyuubi growls. Mito stumbles backwards, fear turning to blood in her mouth. The Kyuubi advances, and for the first time, Mito sees him in all his glory: a fox the size of a mountain, wickedly sharp teeth as large as trees, and red eyes that bleed terror into her heart.

But Mito is an Uzumaki, and stronger than the terror is the knowledge that has been drilled into her memory since near infancy. The Kyuubi may be a monster, but he is still divine, and the Uzumaki have always been divinely-blessed. So Mito falls to her knees, a worshipper in supplication, and prays to every deity she knows that she will not anger the vengeful god before her. "O great Kyuubi-sama, please spare me." Kushina's voice echoes on the stone, and she winces at the noise.

The Kyuubi's chest rumbles. "Spare you?" Mito can't tell if it's amusement or anger that prompts his words. "You have bound me, witch. I can do you no harm."

Anger, then. Mito's heart is pounding in her head and she doesn't know what to do. There is no one to help her here – the enemy is quite literally within. "Forgive me, Kyuubi-sama," Mito says, searching desperately for something else, anything else, to say.

"My name," the Kyuubi snarls, "is not Kyuubi-sama!"

"Then what is it?" Mito cries, fear giving way to frustration. She raises her head to glare at the Kyuubi, angry tears slipping down her cheeks. She didn't ask for this, didn't ask to have this damned fox sealed inside her, didn't ask to spend her time standing in disgusting cave water with the Kyuubi screeching at her.

The Kyuubi falls silent. And then, as the world begins to dissolve into darkness and Mito fades back into sleep, he says, "Kurama. My name is Kurama."

* * *

Note: Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, or favorited! I have about 16 more chapters planned out for this piece (two of which include Kushina), so I hope you'll continue to read! Also, a note on updates: I honestly suck at keeping to a schedule (I have two other in-progress works that I need to update this month), but I'm hoping to update at least once every two weeks. Hopefully once a week, but it all depends on how many hours I end up working and how much homework I have from classes. So. At least every other week, but honestly I just post chapters when I finish them.

Leave a review if you like ^^


	3. my god has no lungs

my god has no lungs

* * *

It snows the day of their first mission. Tobirama doesn't know why he's surprised; nothing has been going according to plan lately. To add to his annoyance, both Izuna and Mito are late. He's waiting by the village gate, alone in the snow, and if _one more_ person looks at him pityingly, he's going to kill something.

"Oi, Tobirama!" Izuna calls. Tobirama sighs and turns toward the approaching Uchiha, pausing when he sees Uzumaki Mito walking beside him. Her red hair is loose, and in place of her usual furisode, she wears tight black pants and leather armor. What catches Tobirama's attention, however, is the familiar-looking haori she wears over her armor.

"What is that?" he asks sharply, ignoring Izuna and staring at Mito.

She tilts her head, confused. "Uchiha – that is, Izuna-sama gave me his haori because of the snow."

"Is there a problem?" Izuna asks, clearly amused. Tobirama has never wanted to hit the younger man more. Izuna of all people should know what it means for a woman to be seen wearing the Uchiha crest, especially an unmarried woman. There's a small, easily-ignored part of Tobirama that says he would have less of an issue with Mito wearing a non-Uzumaki clan's symbol if she were wearing _his_ crest.

Again, Tobirama ignores Izuna. "Do you not own adequate clothing? If you need to purchase more, Toka can help you."

"I'm perfectly capable of buying my own clothing, Senju-sama, and Toka has more important things to do than cater to my every whim," Mito says. Her violet eyes are sharp, and Tobirama had forgotten that before she was Konoha's Jinchuuriki, she was Uzushio's princess, a fearsome kunoichi and politician. It's hard to remember, because he didn't know her then: he only knows the girl who had sobbed and screamed and been made sacrifice to the Kyuubi.

He raises an eyebrow. "Then why are you wearing Izuna's clothes?"

Mito flushes, and for a moment Tobirama is breathless. The blood that rises in her cheeks is paler than her crimson hair, a delicate pink against her pale skin. "It doesn't snow in Uzushio," she bites out, embarrassment making her words sound harsher than they are. "I didn't expect it to be so cold."

It occurs to him then, as it perhaps should have earlier, that this may very well be her first experience with snow. To his knowledge, this is her first time away from the islands that make up the Land of Waves, and if it hasn't snowed in Uzushio… "Wow!" Izuna says before Tobirama has processed the new information enough to formulate a response. "Is this your first time in the snow?"

Mito's flush deepens, and she nods. A snowflake lands on her nose and Mito's eyes go comically wide. "It's _cold_ ," she says, crinkling her nose in disgust. Tobirama watches her stand there, her cheeks and nose pink from cold and embarrassment, her red hair dusted with snow, drowning in Izuna's too-big haori, and the only word he can think of to describe her is _cute_.

Tobirama turns away, cheeks flaming. "Let's go," he snarls, turning on his heel and storming out of the village. He can hear Izuna's laughter behind him, and he grits his teeth in frustration.

* * *

After a few hours of silent walking, Izuna groans – loudly and dramatically, as always – and tosses his arm around Tobirama's shoulder carelessly. "My, Tobirama, you sure know how to show a girl a good time. This is Mito-sama's first mission, you're making her feel uncomfortable! Isn't he, Mito-sama?"

"This isn't my first mission, Izuna-sama; I've been a kunoichi of Uzushio since I was six." She lengthens her stride to walk beside the two men, brushing the snow out of her hair with one hand. "And Izuna-sama?" She frowns thoughtfully before saying, "You don't need to call me 'Mito-sama' all the time; please speak comfortably."

Izuna's face lights up, and Tobirama scowls. "Can I call you Mito-san, then? Or just Mito? You can call me Izuna! Or Izuna-nii, you're young enough to be my sister. Isn't she, Tobirama?"

"I don't care," Tobirama mutters, speeding up. Unfortunately, both Izuna and Mito keep up with him easily.

"Izuna-nii?" Mito repeats thoughtfully. After a moment, she smiles. "I'll call you Izuna-nii if you call me Mito."

For some reason, this casualness irritates Tobirama. Why should she treat Izuna like an older brother? She already has an older brother, Tobirama knows. The Namikage. Tobirama has never met him, but they've corresponded, and Tobirama knows that Uzumaki Kenshin is young, arrogant, and calculating. He's also cold enough to send his nineteen year old sister to host the Kyuubi for a foreign village in order to strengthen bonds of alliance.

In hindsight, perhaps her easy acceptance of Izuna's friendship isn't so odd. That doesn't make Tobirama any less irritated.

"Senju-sama," Mito says, and the honorific is doubly irritating after hearing her call Izuna so informally. "Haven't all the great clans already joined Konoha? What threats could there possibly be so far from the village?"

"It's true that many clans have allied with the Senju and Uchiha," Tobirama explained. "But there are clanless groups that could potentially pose threats to the peace Hashirama and Madara have built. Rouge shinobi from other countries that have banded together, groups of bandits, rebel groups opposing the daimyo. There have been reports of a group of rogue shinobi up north. We're going to eliminate them."

Mito pauses, her violet eyes scanning the surrounding trees. "Eliminate? This isn't just a practice mission? I've barely been able to communicate with the Kyuubi, I have no idea how to manipulate his chakra."

Tobirama freezes, seizing Mito's arm and forcing her to stop. She stumbles and he pulls her to his chest, tightening his grip on her wrist. Izuna slows, too, watching silently. It's obvious that he heard, too, and is curious, if less alarmed than Tobirama. "What the hell do you mean?" Tobirama demands. "You've been able to contact the Kyuubi? You've communicated with it?"

Something dangerous flashes in Mito's eyes. "With _him_ ," she snaps. "He's a _male_ , and his name is – " Mito falters. She looks young, far younger than she really is, as she says, "I've talked with him. Is that wrong?"

"The Kyuubi is a monster," Tobirama snarls. "And while it has a consciousness, it does not have morals. It is not something that you can 'talk with.'"

Mito glances at Izuna, but the Uchiha's face is perfectly blank. "You – you put him in me, you put the Kyuubi in me, and you call him a monster, then what does that make me?" she asks. Her voice is soft but strong, gaining strength and anger as she continues. "You put him in my head, and now, what? I'm supposed to say nothing while he's screaming louder than my thoughts? Am I a monster too? Is this what Konoha has made me?" She's crying now, her hair falling in her face and her hands trembling and god, she's beautiful.

It is, surprisingly, Izuna who breaks the silence – Tobirama is too caught up in watching Mito. "You're not a monster," Izuna says. "No matter what anyone says about the Kyuubi, you are not a monster, Mito."

"That's hardly the issue," Mito murmurs. Her eyes are faraway, looking at something Tobirama can't see.

"Uzumaki-hime," Tobirama says.

Mito looks up at him, and her face is close – too close. He's still holding her flush against him. There's hatred in her eyes, real hatred, and the Kyuubi's chakra flairs. Tobirama releases her, takes a step back, and then two more. "What the hell are you?" he asks with deadly calm. He can't tell – can't tell if it's Mito or the Kyuubi in front of him. Their chakras are too entwined; he can't distinguish between the two, but the malice in her eyes is all Kyuubi.

"Tobirama," Izuna says. It's the only warning he gets before there are three rouge shinobi on him. He draws his sword with practiced ease, but he's off – his eyes keep darting to Mito, even as he cuts down the enemies surrounding him. She's surrounded, too, and he can see the exact moment it all ends for her. One of the shinobi slants his sword up, and Tobirama knows it will reach Mito's heart.

He acts without thinking, using the hiraishin to appear at Mito's side. He's too late to block the shinobi's sword, too late to do anything but brace himself for the pain that blooms in his chest. Mito screams, and then everything goes black.

* * *

They camp for the night in a clearing. Tobirama still hasn't woken up, and Izuna stares silently at the fire. Mito had tended to Tobirama's wounds, but she's not a healer, and this far from Konoha, she's not optimistic about his chances. If he gets an infection…

 _He deserves to die_ , Kurama interrupts her worrying.

 _He saved my life, Kurama-sama,_ Mito responds with a frown. She glances at Izuna, but he doesn't look up. Of course, he can't hear Kurama – it's all in Mito's head. The thought is oddly comforting. She can still hear Tobirama calling Kurama a monster, and it leaves an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

 _I don't like it when he touches you,_ Kurama growls. _I don't want Senju scum touching my Jinchuuriki._

 _I would have died._ The realization hits her then, stealing the breath from her lungs. _That shinobi would have killed me, but Senju-sama saved my life._

 _I would have saved you_. Kurama's voice is softer than she has ever heard it. _You were never in any real danger. You cannot die while my chakra sustains you._

It's… almost sweet, but Mito's annoyance is stronger than any warmth the words bring. _I wouldn't have been in danger at all if you hadn't started screaming at me while I was trying to fight_ , she retorts. _And then Senju-sama wouldn't be injured!_

 _When will you learn,_ Kurama growls, _to look after yourself? The Senju and the Uchiha will not hesitate to throw you away, you foolish girl._

 _My name is Mito!_ she snaps, but already, Kurama's presence has faded, receding back into whatever space he occupies when his is ignoring her.

"Mito." Izuna's soft voice breaks the silence that Kurama's absence has created. She snaps her head up to look at him. Izuna has not moved from his seat by the fire, so Mito slowly makes her way over to him and sits beside him. "Are you alright?" he asks.

"Of course," she lies smoothly. She draws Izuna's haori tighter around her shoulders, shivering in the cold. The snow stopped falling a little after dark, but the air is cold and unforgiving. Mito finds herself suddenly and irrationally homesick for Uzushio. Winters there were cold, too, but there was never such a bite in the air.

Izuna reaches out and taps her forehead. "You're going to get wrinkles," he informs her. "So tell me, what's troubling you?" When Mito stays silent, Izuna sighs. "Mito. Tobirama is going to be fine."

"What if he's not?" Mito pulls her knees to her chest and rests her chin on them, frowning at the fire. "What if he's not fine, and it's all my fault?"

"Tobirama knew what he was doing. You can't blame yourself. Especially since he's going to be fine. I _promise_ , Mito. You did a good job stopping the bleeding." Izuna smiles at her, but she can see that he's worried too. His eyes are tight, and his hand hasn't strayed from his sword.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "If I were a healer…" She stops. A healer… Kurama had said that she couldn't die with his chakra, that she had never been in danger. That had to mean that he could heal, didn't it?

"Mito?" Izuna asks.

"Give me a moment," she says breathlessly. _Kurama?_ she asks tentatively. _Kurama, please answer me._

 _What do you want, brat?_ His reply is immediate, and Mito lets out a sigh of relief.

 _Can you heal Senju-sama?_

There is silence, for so long that Mito begins to worry, and then: _You want me to heal that Senju bastard?_ Kurama's voice is more flat than incredulous, but Mito is a trained kunoichi of Uzushio, and she knows how to get her way.

 _Please?_ Is all she says, pouring all her heart into one word.

Kurama heaves a great sigh, and then says, _Fine_.

It's more than enough for Mito. "Izuna-nii," she says immediately, "I'm going to heal Senju-sama."

"You've already tried that, Mito." Still, Izuna makes no move to stop her as she kneels beside Tobirama's unconscious figure.

"I have more chakra now," she says softly, and hopes he understands. She looks up at Izuna, and can see the exact moment he makes the connection. Again, he doesn't stop her, merely presses his lips into a thin line and nods his agreement. They'd removed his armor when they first stopped, so Mito simply tugs Tobirama's shirt up, flushing despite herself. The wound is red and angry. Mito had stopped the bleeding, but she hadn't been able to close the wound completely. Now, she calls chakra to her hands, only half surprised when it appears red instead of green. She lowers her hands over the wound, conscious of the warmth of Tobirama's skin beneath her fingertips. As she watches, breath held in anticipation, the wound closes over, skin knitting back together. When it's finally over, Mito thinks she could cry from relief.

When Tobirama opens his eyes, she does.

* * *

note: Happy Valentine's Day! Sorry this chapter isn't all roses and chocolates, but Tobirama and Mito have a long way to go before that happens. If it ever happens. Tobirama doesn't seem the type to be into public displays of affection and giant teddy bears. That said, this is officially a slow-burn romance; I'm planning on ending it after 18 chapters (roughly 38,000 words, give or take a thousand or so), and the "slow-burn" means it'll be another ten or eleven chapters before anything is "official." Ish. I don't know. Anyway, hope you enjoyed (or not, tbh I'm writing this for myself and also Nicole - hi Nicole!) and as always, feel free to leave a review (or not). Thanks to everyone who read, favorited, followed, or reviewed.


	4. your leaves are withered now

your leaves are withered now

* * *

The novelty of snow wears off quickly. It lays heavily over Konoha, painting the world white and making Mito's cheeks red from the cold. She feels frozen as she trudges from the Senju compound to the Uchiha District, but the feeling is more than just physical discomfort. It's been nearly a week, and Tobirama still hasn't healed. The medics say it's just an infection, _he'll be better soon, Uzumaki-sama_ , but Mito has seen the tightness around Toka's eyes that speaks of worry, has seen how Hashirama paces outside Tobirama's door. Guilt weighs heavily on her shoulders, despite Kurama's constant reassurances that it wasn't her fault – though 'reassurance' seems too kind a word for his gruff protests.

Izuna is waiting outside the gate to the Uchiha District. His nose is red from the cold, and he waves cheerfully as Mito walks up to him. "Mito~"

"Izuna-nii," she greets. "Thank you for inviting me to tour the Uchiha District."

"There's no need to be so formal," Izuna says, turning and leading Mito into the Uchiha District. He glances at her, dark eyes taking in the carefully-concealed shadows under her violet eyes, the faintest imperfections in the folds of her kimono. "Ah, I've been meaning to ask… How is Tobirama? I haven't had the time to visit him."

Mito seems to wilt right before his eyes. "Senju-sama is… recovering," she tells him. "The wound has closed, but the strain of healing has caused an infection."

"Can't Hashirama heal him, then?" Izuna watches Mito carefully. He knows she feels guilty for indirectly causing Tobirama's injury – it's obvious, too, that she's worrying herself sick. If there's a solution to this, a way to make Tobirama better and Mito happier, he's going to find it.

"It's true that Hokage-sama is an adept healer," Mito allows. "The problem lies in identifying the infection. Senju-sama is ill, but beyond a fever and deliriousness, there too few identifying symptoms."

Izuna blinks. "You seem to know a lot about healing," he notes.

Mito flushes, equal parts pleased and embarrassed by his praise. "I'm not a healer," she says. "I studied fuinjutsu, primarily. I did some work with the medics in Uzushio because seals store chakra. If medics use fuinjutsu to store their chakra, then they can access it for healing after battles, when they are suffering from chakra-exhaustion."

Izuna can't help but think that this is something Tobirama would be interested in – he understands Mito well enough, and gets the distinct feeling that she's simplifying it for him, but Tobirama has always loved learning. He would be fascinated by fuinjutsu. Wryly, Izuna thinks that Tobirama would be all the more interested because of Mito herself. Tobirama's eyes follow Mito wherever she goes, even if the Uzumaki princess herself isn't aware of his attention.

But Tobirama isn't with them; Mito and Izuna are alone in the Uchiha District – not _alone_ , because there are other Uchiha around, most eyeing Mito suspiciously – and Tobirama's absence is glaringly obvious. There's nothing Izuna can do to help Tobirama, so he resolves to distract Mito. "Do you want to see the koi pond that anija always pushes me into?"

* * *

They spend the majority of the day traipsing around the Uchiha District, visiting every sight that Izuna considers noteworthy. Most of them are meaningless – the tree he fell out of while practicing chakra control, the dango shop where he was rejected for the first time by his first love, and, as promised, the koi pond that he has been tossed into on numerous occasions – but they make Mito smile, and that's all Izuna cares about.

Finally, Izuna leads her up the hill to the Uchiha Districts crowning achievement: the Naka Shrine. Mito is breathless as they pass under the _torii_ – not because of the long, winding staircase, but because it's been months since she saw a temple. By Uzushio's standards, the Naka Shrine isn't impressive; it's small and the paint is already peeling in a way that suggests disrepair rather than age.

"We don't usually let outsiders in," Izuna explains. He glances at her over his shoulder, smiling boyishly. "I made an exception for you, Mito-chan, since you're my adopted sister."

Mito laughs, and there's something… freeing, about the action. She feels lighter than she has in days. The lack of temples and shrines in Konoha is startling, even after two months. The people of Uzushio have always kept the old ways, and before her exile to Konoha, Mito had spent hours each day in any of Uzushio's temples. Entering the Naka Shrine feels like coming home. She closes her eyes and pretends that salt lingers in the air, on her tongue, and that a cool breeze kisses her skin. She imagines that she can hear seagulls crying as they wheel overhead, the faint crashing of waves on the rocks.

Then she opens her eyes again, and reality comes crashing down. It settles heavily in her gut, and suddenly it's hard to breath. Her heart aches. Homesick. She's homesick – for an older brother who hates her, a younger brother whom she adores, and a seashore she might never see again.

"I heard that Uzushio is full of shrines," Izuna says softly. He's standing at her side, watching her as she takes in the shrine, her eyes full of wonder.

"Not full," Mito replies. "But there are many. What time I had outside of training or studying I spent in the temples."

Whatever Izuna had planned to say is lost as a younger, curly-haired boy – clearly an Uchiha, from his dark hair and slanted eyes – bursts into the shrine, out of breath. "Izuna-nii," he calls, bracing his hands on his knees as he tries to regain his breath.

"What is it, Kagami?"

"Hokage-sama and Madara-sama want to see you and Uzumaki-sama," the boy, Kagami, says, eyeing Mito nervously.

Izuna turns back to Mito, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry, Mito; it looks like our tour has been cut short." He can see the exact moment Kagami's words sink in; her expression turns worried, and he knows that she's reached the same conclusion he has. If Madara and Hashirama need to see both of them… Well, it's either about a mission or about Tobirama, and neither of those things bodes well.

* * *

As it turns out, it's about neither of those things. Hashirama is waiting when they enter his office, and for the first time since Tobirama returned injured, he looks well-rested and calm. "Ah, Izuna, Uzumaki-sama." He's cheerful, smiling brightly as they approach his desk. Madara is lounging in Hashirama's chair. He smiles when he sees Mito, a slow, dangerous thing.

"You called?" Izuna asks brightly, his voice betraying none of the confusion that lingers in his eyes.

"We're going to celebrate," Hashirama says. "Tobirama's fever broke this morning; the healers say he's completely recovered."

Mito's relief is almost tangible. Izuna glances at her, unable to fight back his smile. "So he's well enough for visitors?" Izuna asks.

Madara arches an eyebrow, and Mito crinkles her nose. He looks every inch the bored aristocrat, like the son of the daimyo rather than the leader of an awe-inspiring ninja clan. "If he wasn't," he says languidly, "would we be visiting him?"

Izuna scowls at his brother. Madara scowls back. "Hokage-sama," Mito says, and the tension between the Uchiha brothers instantly dissipates. Her expression is contemplative. She chews her lip, and uncharacteristic display of nerves. "I was wondering if I might ask a favor."

Hashirama glances at Izuna, surprised. "Of course, Uzumaki-sama. How can I help you?"

Mito takes a deep breath. "I want to build a temple."

Her declaration is met with silence from all three men. Then Madara laughs, a rumble deep in his chest. "A temple?"

She flushes, embarrassment painting her cheeks rosy. "If I am to remain here," she explains, "as Konoha's jinchuuriki, then it stands to reason that I will never return to Uzushio." The reminder is a kunai in her heart, but she ignores the pain and continues. "If I am to spend the rest of my life away from my family and home, then I would like to build something to remind me of my clan."

Mito knows it's an unusual request, but after visiting the Naka Shrine, she can't help herself. To her immense relief, Hashirama simply nods. "That seems reasonable, Uzumaki-sama. We can discuss details tomorrow, perhaps?" Mito nods, allowing herself a small smile.

* * *

Tobirama is irritated. That, in itself, is not unusual, but usually he's irritated with Hashirama's cheerfulness or Madara's moodiness or Izuna in general. Today, though, it's Mito who has captured his attention. It's been almost an hour since Hashirama arrived with the Uchiha brothers and Mito, and the redhead hasn't so much as glanced at him since they sat down to eat. She's staring down at her food, looking up only occasionally when Izuna murmurs something to her.

He brushes off Hashirama's concern and glowers at the wall over his cup of sake. When Mito murmurs something about being tired, Tobirama volunteers to walk her back to the Senju compound.

Mito keeps her eyes on the ground even after they leave the Akimichi restaurant. Snow lands in her hair, on her nose, and she shivers. Her cheeks are red from too much drinking, and her eyes have glazed over. Tobirama watches her with growing exasperation. "Uzumaki-hime," he says, "have I offended you, in some way?" She doesn't reply; scowling, Tobirama grabs her wrist and stops walking, pulling her around to face him. "Uzumaki-hime."

Mito raises tear-filled eyes to meet his. "You could have _died_ ," she cries. "You could have died because of me."

Tobirama's eyes widen. She had cried when he woke up after their mission had gone horribly, horribly wrong. He remembers it vaguely, but those memories are covered by a haze of pain and blood loss. But to see her crying now, while she's standing in front of him, her crimson hair slipping from its elaborate knot, is surprisingly painful. Tobirama doesn't know what to do. "I didn't die," he reminds her gently.

"But you _could_ have," Mito argues, wiping her eyes. "What would I have done if you had?"

Ignoring the way his heart flutters, Tobirama takes Mito's other wrist and draws her closer. It's horribly inappropriate; he shouldn't be holding her like this, especially not alone and at night, but… "I didn't die," he repeats. "It's useless to think about the past, Uzumaki-hime. What's done is done."

Evidently, this is the wrong thing to say. Mito bursts into tears. Tobirama hesitates for a moment, then wraps his arms around Mito, pulling her against him. She sobs against his chest and he rests his chin on her head. Just for tonight, he'll allow himself this – allow himself to hold her tight, to pretend that he can have this.

Tomorrow, he'll let go.

* * *

note: Happy Late Birthday, Nicole! I totally meant to post this last week, but I am an awful person and didn't finish in time.

The next chapter should be up... sometime. The next few chapters might be a bit shorter, too, because my outline gets really vague for a little while. I don't have any huge plot moments planned until chapter 8 (there's a little bit of plot in 6, I guess? maybe?) but the chapters up until then are mostly development.

Thanks to everyone who read, favorited, reviewed, followed, etc.


	5. chewing up fairytales

chewing up fairytales

* * *

Their next mission comes two months after Tobirama's recovery, when the leaves have finally begun to creep out of the trees and color the forest with the green of new life. There is a group of bandits worryingly close to Konoha. Hashirama has called all the Kage for a meeting – talk of peace won't go well if the Kage are attacked while supposedly under Konoha's protection. The mission is simple enough; they are to leave no bandit left alive, but Tobirama and Izuna were bred and born for war. They are accustomed to killing. It's Mito that Tobirama is worried about.

He doesn't doubt her abilities; Mito is a weapon just as much – if not more so – than Tobirama and Izuna. It's the arrival of the Kage that worries Tobirama. All agreed to meet with Hashirama – with the notable exception of Uzumaki Kenshin. Mito's hands had begun to tremble, almost unnoticeably, when Hashirama had said her brother's name. In the hour of travel since, they haven't stopped.

It's not his place to pry – as much as Tobirama wants to know why even the mention of Kenshin's name causes her such trepidation, he has no right to ask. He's not sure he wants to, either. What could possess a brother to send his beloved younger sister to bleed and die for another village, even an allied one? Tobirama has seen what the Kyuubi can do, and he would not wish that malice on anyone, especially not Mito.

"Tobirama," Izuna says suddenly, interrupting the peaceful, if dull, silence that has surrounded them. "Do you want to make a bet?"

"No," Tobriama says flatly. He glances sideways at Mito. Her hands are still shaking.

"Please?" Izuna tries again. "You haven't even heard the bet, at least listen to me before you say no!"

"I have no interest," Tobirama says cooly, "in making a bet with you. You will ask for time or favor with Toka, neither of which I can supply, and even if I agree to whatever ridiculous contest you think of, I will inevitably win."

"In that case," Mito says softly, "you have nothing to lose."

Tobirama stops and looks at her, arching an eyebrow. "So even Uzumaki-hime is in on your scheme?"

Mito's cheek color, but she holds his gaze. "Well," Izuna says, sounding far too smug for comfort, "you seem unable to say no to her."

Sighing, Tobirama pinches the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he says at last. "I'll listen to you, but I will promise nothing more than that." He starts walking again, lengthening his stride so Izuna has to half-jog to keep up. He slows only when he realizes Mito is falling behind.

"Short legs," Izuna comments offhandedly, his eyes darting back to Mito before his attention returns to Tobirama and he smirks. It sounds like a peace offering. Tobirama narrows his eyes at the Uchiha. "Here's my proposition," Izuna says. "Whoever kills the most bandits gets to ask a favor of the loser. If I win, you convince Toka to share a meal with me – _just_ me. If you win, I'll owe you a favor."

A favor from Izuna isn't worth much – he doesn't have anything that Tobirama wants. Except… Tobirama's eyes slide to Mito. She's looking at the ground, rather than them, her nose crinkled as she glares down at the mud left in the wake of the recent snowmelt. She holds Izuna in high regard – perhaps Izuna could persuade her to call him Tobirama, rather than Senju-sama?

"I accept," he says finally. "If you win, you'll have your meal with Toka – but I can't promise that she'll be happy about it," Tobirama warns. "You know how she is."

"Yes," Izuna agrees dreamily, his eyes glazing over, "I do." He looks lovesick, and Tobirama scowls before turning away. He'll never understand Izuna's attraction to violent women like Toka – then again, he doesn't understand why Toka encourages Izuna's advances. His cousin's motives are a mystery best left unsolved.

* * *

After what seems like an eternity of walking, even to Tobirama, they come to a stop at the edge of the clearing where the bandits have made their camp. Tobirama knows that he and Izuna are well versed with missions of this kind, but Mito… He doesn't know what her life in Uzushio was like – Uzushio managed, in the midst of all the clan wars, to remain peaceful. Would the clan head of a peaceful village send his daughter out on missions that were little more than massacres? Tobirama doesn't know, but sending Mito into a bloodbath unprepared is not something he is willing to do.

"Uzumaki-hime," he says quietly, and how he hates that he can't call her Mito. "The requirements of this mission are simple – there are to be no survivors. If you are uncomfortable with that –"

"I am a kunoichi of Uzushio, Senju-sama," Mito says, her violet eyes alight with the Kyuubi's chakra. Tobirama flinches back almost imperceptibly – _almost_. Mito doesn't miss the movement, subtle as it may have been, and her smile is tinged with bitterness. "Your concern is appreciated by not necessary. I know what to do."

Despite her reassurances, Tobirama can't fight back his apprehension. Mito is… Mito runs just to keep up with him while he walks. Mito wears Izuna's haori when it's cold because she has seen snow only once in her life and still isn't used to the biting cold. Mito _cried_ for him, not once but twice. Mito and blood and death and killing are things that should never, ever be associated. Still, he signals Izuna and Mito forward, and follows them into the clearing as it erupts into chaos.

Izuna moves like a force of nature, his sword leaving a mist of blood in its wake. He ducks around his attackers, and for once, he is focused, all traces of amusement and good humor gone as his eyes spin red. Tobirama has always favored jutsu over weapons, but he uses his blade now – it's not worth the waste of chakra; most of these bandits have no chakra control, and the few that do are only at genin level.

The fight ends quickly. Even two dozen bandits are no match for Tobirama and Izuna. Tobirama leaves Izuna to dispose of the corpses – fire jutsu are extremely useful, at times – and turns to Mito. There are a few bodies at her feet – less than Tobirama had killed, and much less than Izuna, but it's still… odd. It's difficult to reconcile the memory of Mito when she first arrived in Konoha, dignified and beautiful and terrified and trembling, with Mito now. Her face is streaked with blood and she sways on her feet and Tobirama realizes suddenly that she's injured. He curses himself for not noticing it sooner and catches her in his arms just as her knees give out.

Izuna is at his side in an instant, Sharingan reactivated as he examines Mito's wound. "It's not bad," he says immediately. "Blood loss, more than anything else. We should make camp and let her rest. See if you can stop the bleeding." He slips away again, silent as a wraith, and finishes burning the bodies.

Tobirama sets Mito down gently. Her hair fans out around her like blood, or fire, and he can't fight back a smile; he can already see the face she'll make when she wakes up with mud in her hair.

Tobirama's knowledge of medical jutsu isn't anywhere near Hashirama's – for all his brother's faults, he is a true genius. Still, Tobirama lets his hands glow with chakra and lowers them to Mito's still-bleeding stomach. The wound isn't bad, as Izuna said – it takes a matter of seconds to close it, encouraging skin and muscle to knit together again. Tobirama lifts Mito easily, cradling her close to his chest, and follows Izuna back into the woods to find a suitable place to stay the night.

* * *

It's sometime past midnight when Mito opens her eyes. The fire is burning low, Izuna stretched out beside it – far too close for comfort – staring at the stars, and Tobirama is taking advantage of the silence to meditate. He snaps back to attention when Izuna sits up and follows the Uchiha's gaze to Mito.

She sits up slowly, rolling her shoulders a few times before stretching her arms out. There's something preternaturally graceful about the movement, something predatory, something… vulpine. Her eyes flash red, and Tobirama wants to believe it's a trick of the light, the play of the fire flickering across her face, but… His hand falls to his sword. When Mito speaks, her voice is pitched low, her smile hungry.

"So, little Senju," she purrs, "is it time to play?"

"Kyuubi," Izuna says. His eyes are spinning red, but his posture is relaxed, his tone almost polite. "Is Mito…?" That Mito is gone permanently is something Tobirama hadn't even thought of, and he doesn't want to dwell on it. His sword is half drawn by the time Izuna touches his hand, warning.

"She is resting, not gone," the Kyuubi says with Mito's mouth. "I would not want this body without her in it." The admission is careless, offered without hesitation or restraint, but… It implies that Mito and the Kyuubi have a relationship. Tobirama had known that they communicated, but he hadn't imagined that there was any sense of comradery between them.

"What do you want, Kyuubi?" Tobirama growls.

Those angry, blazing red eyes snap up to meet Tobirama's glare. "My name is Kurama," the thing says in Mito's voice. There is an unnatural, predatory stillness to it, and some deep, long-buried instinct urges Tobirama to run, to get as far away from this swirling maelstrom of malevolent chakra as possible. "As for what I desire," there is a hungry look in Mito-Kurama's eyes, a darkness that sets Tobirama's teeth on edge. "Leave my vessel alone," Kurama purrs. It's sickening, to hear its words coming from Mito's mouth, to see its expression on her face.

"She's not yours," Tobirama says before he can help himself. The words fall flat – it was his idea to do this, it was he who persuaded Hashirama to look to Uzushio and an age-old alliance for a Jinchuuriki. He sold Mito to Kurama before he even knew her name. Isn't that how the old stories went? A sacrifice to an angry god in a desperate bid for peace. Mito belongs to Kurama more surely than she will ever belong to him.

"She is mine before she is yours, and she is her own before she belongs to anyone. Leave my vessel alone," Kurama repeats. "I will not tell you again, Senju."

A hand on his wrist stops Tobirama from saying any of the bitter words that rise like bile in his throat. Tobirama looks up, but Izuna only shakes his head. They sit together in silence, watching Kurama-in-Mito's-body stare into the fire. It isn't until the sun begins to show over the treetops that Mito's eyes fade back to violet.

* * *

note: I definitely meant to post this last week (which seems to be a theme with me, posting things a week late) and as an apology, I'm going to post another chapter later tonight! Yay! Double update! (This chapter is dedicated to everyone but Nicole, because I posted the last chapter for her birthday and she hasn't read it yet.) The next chapter is shorter than I would have liked, but it's mostly plot development so whatever. Cheers!


	6. stars smeared like glitter

stars smeared like glitter

* * *

Dealing with Kurama is… uncomfortable. Mito feels like a stranger in her own head, sometimes – she never knows when Kurama is going to speak to her, but she feels him constantly, a sleepy presence in the back of her mind that stirs at the most inopportune of times. Sometimes, her heart pounds and blood fills her mouth and it's all she can do to keep from screaming as malice-filled chakra rages through her. Kurama always talks to her, once it's subsided. His voice is soft, in the aftermath, as she curls on her futon and sobs like her heart is breaking, and maybe it is, because she didn't want this, doesn't want this, this pain and rage and hopelessness that isn't entirely her own, but isn't completely Kurama's, either.

 _Forgive me, little one,_ Kurama murmurs, soft and low.

 _Will it hurt less, if I forgive you? Will it stop?_ That's all she wants – she just wants it to _stop_ , even for just a day. It's only been a few months, but already she's forgotten what it felt like when her mind was her own.

Kurama's answer is slow and reluctant. _No. I cannot take away your pain, no matter how I wish I could. We are bound, body and soul,_ he tells her, and that is the first time Mito has thought of it like that, thought of it as anything different than a sacrifice. Kurama has lost something, too. Her body is not what he is accustomed to, unwieldy and human as it is, just as his chakra is painfully different than hers. _Your pain is mine, as mine is yours._

 _Body and soul,_ she repeats. It feels like a confession. It feels like a promise.

 _You are mine,_ Kurama says, and this time, his chakra is warm without burning, _as I am yours._

* * *

Tobirama finds Mito in the room she shares with Toka – his cousin herself is absent; she's on an extended mission at the Daimyo's palace, and Tobirama knows the separation has been difficult for Mito. She still doesn't seem to like Hashirama or Madara much, although the latter is growing more and more appreciative of her friendship with Izuna. Madara is a jealous man, Tobirama knows, but he's also intelligent, for all that Tobirama likes to claim otherwise. Izuna had been lonely before Mito's arrival. He's not, anymore, with Tobirama and Mito (and occasionally Toka) by his side.

Tobirama hovers in Toka's doorway, suddenly unsure of himself. He's not masking his chakra, yet Mito doesn't react to his presence. He takes the opportunity to study her, sharp eyes searching for any sign of injury or illness. Her knees are pulled to her chest. There's a scroll unrolled on the floor in front of her, a cup of tea held in her hands. Her hair is falling into her eyes, a crimson waterfall, and she pushes it back a few times with growing irritation.

He catches himself staring and clears his throat, self-conscious. His cheeks feel hot and he knows the beginnings of a blush are evident on his face. Mito looks up immediately, violet eyes lighting up as she sees him. "Senju-sama!" Her cheeks are flushed too, with excitement rather than embarrassment, and she gestures for him to sit beside her. He does, folding his legs carefully and making sure that the distance between them is far enough to be, if possible, beyond appropriate.

Tobirama studies the scroll in front of them, guessing that this is what has Mito so excited. He frowns at the drawing of the Kyuubi that greets him. She's mapped out its chakra pathways. Dimly, he registers her saying something about having figured out the proper ratio of bijuu to human chakra, how she can now theoretically use Kurama's chakra as her own in battle.

That's when he stops her. "Kurama?" he repeats, eyebrows furrowing.

Mito tilts her head, frowning slightly. "Yes, Kurama. The Kyuubi."

"You call it by name." It's not a question. Tobirama's voice is flat and harsh, even to his own ears, but he can't bring himself to care. He'd known, after that last mission gone wrong, that Mito was communicating with the Kyuubi, but to have amassed this amount of knowledge…

"Him." Mito's voice is firm and holds the beginnings of anger. "I call him by name."

"It's not your friend, Uzumaki-hime!" he snaps before he can stop himself. "It's a dangerous beast that can't be trusted."

"You wanted his power, it's why you had him sealed in me. I don't understand why you're angry about this!"

Tobirama jumps to his feet, pacing the room with furious energy. "You're playing with things you don't understand."

"I'm not a child!" Mito hisses, standing as well. Her eyes are all anger now, her cheeks red with it, no hint of her earlier excitement left. "It seems to have slipped your mind, but I've been studying fuinjutsu since I was young! I'm a kunoichi of Uzushio. I know what I'm doing."

"You're still young," Tobirama says. "Do you know how many deaths that thing has caused? How much suffering? The Kyuubi is a _monster_ , Uzumaki-hime."

"They say the same about you," Mito says, eyes flashing.

The room is silent. Tobirama stares at Mito, working his jaw. There's no regret in her expression – there's no hint of the Kyuubi, either. "So," he says at last. "So this is your opinion of me." There's something painful in his chest – a cracked rib, maybe. He should ask Hashirama to check, but he knows what his brother would say. He doesn't want to entertain the idea that it could be anything other than an old wound flaring up, doesn't want to consider that he's let his feelings get so out of control. He leaves the room without another word, unable to bear the sight of Mito's cold expression any longer.

* * *

"Did you call Tobirama a monster?"

Mito glances up at Izuna as he sits down on the grass beside her, then goes back to inking a particularly difficult seal. "And if I did?" She still doesn't regret it – something's changed in her, since that conversation with Kurama. _Body and soul._ She meant it, and she knows that Kurama was sincere when he said that he was hers.

Izuna is silent for a moment. "What did you two fight about?" he asks quietly.

"He thinks Kurama is a monster." Mito's grip on her brush tightens.

"Even if you don't agree, can't you understand where he's coming from? The Kyuubi did a lot of damage to Konoha when construction had first begun. Tobirama doesn't think like you do, Mito. He thinks in terms of threats and politics."

"Do you think Kurama is a monster?" Izuna says nothing. Mito's hand trembles. "If he's a monster," she says softly, setting her brush down, "then doesn't that make me one?"

"Oh, Mito," Izuna sighs. He can only hold her as she begins to sob.

* * *

note: Short chapter, but I posted two today, so... Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, etc. It really means a lot to me!


	7. interlude: our laughter rises like birds

our laughter rises like birds

* * *

It's easy to forget that Mito is still young. Nineteen is well past the average life expectancy during the Clan Wars, but then, the Uzumaki had rarely deigned to fight with other families. They had focused on building Uzushio, the shining city by the sea, and on worshipping their gods. A fisherman's village, Tobirama's father had called it. Hardly worth the attention of the great Senju Clan. But to seal the Kyuubi… only an Uzumaki had the chakra to survive the invasive, corrupting chakra of a bijuu. Tobirama's starting to believe that only an Uzumaki would actually _communicate_ with the monster and call it by name. He feels, ridiculously, like Mito is choosing the Kyuubi over him.

Izuna prods him in the side. "Stop sighing into your yakisoba, Tobirama," he chides. "I know you're lovesick, but can't you take a break from moping?"

"I'm not lovesick," Tobirama argues half-heartedly. He pokes the noodles in front of him with his chopsticks.

"Oh?" Izuna raises an eyebrow. "Then you don't want my help with Mito?"

Tobirama sets his chopsticks down slowly. "I didn't say that," he murmurs.

"Well then," Izuna says, leaning forward, "here's what we're going to do." He smiles, slow and dangerous, and Tobirama knows he's going to regret whatever comes next.

* * *

Izuna's plan is complicated and far too extreme – Tobirama vetoes about half of it within the first two minutes, but in the end, he thinks they came to a decent compromise. Hashirama despairs of his younger brother's brief-yet-eventful forays (and failures) in romance, but a picnic under the cherry trees? He and Izuna survey their work, and Tobirama will admit to feeling a bit proud of himself.

As soon as he sees Mito, though, Tobirama knows he's made a mistake. A picnic – or 'romantic evening,' as Izuna calls it – isn't going to erase the things they said, or make anything right. He should have just apologized and let it be. But then Mito walks closer – she doesn't look surprised to see him; Tobirama had assumed that Izuna would have to lie to get her here, but maybe things aren't as bad as he thought – and sits down on the silk cloth. She's a respectable distance from Tobirama, but close enough that _maybe_ she's less angry with him now, and maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all. Even Izuna has his bright moments, it seems.

There's a wariness in Mito's eyes that he hasn't seen since her arrival in Konoha. Despite that wariness, and the hurt beneath – hurt, not anger, and how could Tobirama have been so stupid as to think otherwise? – Mito says, softly and calmly, "I'm sorry." He opens his mouth to protest, to say that he is the one who needs to apologize, but Mito holds a hand up to stop him. "I spoke carelessly, Senju-sama. I regret…" She takes a steadying breath and says, softer than before, "I don't think you're a monster." Alarmingly, Tobirama sees tears in her eyes. Still, her words lift a weight off his shoulder.

Tobirama isn't good with tears – years of dealing with Hashirama's dramatics have taught him how to ignore crying, but not how to comfort. "Uzumaki-hime," he begins, then stops, at a loss for words. "Hime," he tries again, "you don't ever need to apologize to me. For any reason. I was… wrong, to criticize you for communicating with the Kyuubi when I have no understanding of you relationship." It's painful, to admit that he is at fault. But losing Mito is too high a price to pay, even to save his pride.

"Thank you," Mito says quietly, surprising him again. He raises an eyebrow at her, and she smiles faintly in response. "I know that it's… difficult. You see Kurama as a monster because of what he's done." She taps a finger against her temple. "It's hard for me to see him like that when he's in my head. I know that I'm not him, but sometimes it's hard to find where I stop and he begins."

"I didn't know," Tobirama admits quietly. He regrets that as much as he regrets fighting with Mito in the first place – he should be looking after her. She's faced so many challenges and changes over the past few months, and he hasn't even thought to ask her how she is adjusting to playing host to the Kyuubi. Of course, he hadn't thought the thing could communicate before Mito had admitted to speaking with it.

"I didn't tell you," Mito says gently. She touches his shoulder, a brief, comforting touch. "Can we stop being angry now? I've missed your company."

All the breath leaves Tobirama's lungs at once. "I have missed you too." He hopes Mito doesn't notice how breathless he sounds, hopes she can't hear that his heart is pounding from her innocent touch, his hands shaking. _My god,_ Tobirama thinks. _I'm in love with her._

* * *

Note: Did anyone catch my Pride and Prejudice reference last chapter? Tobirama is definitely Mr. Darcy, fight me. Sorry for the long hiatus, btw! Things got crazy, there's a (condensed, detail-free) explanation on my profile buuuuuuuut suffice to say I'm back*! This chapter is a bit shorter than usual, but there's a reason for that. The Angst (TM) begins next chapter and goes on for quite some time. Consider this an interlude. Now that the Kurama/Mito thing has developed a bit, it's time for romance and politics and shit.

Thanks to everyone who read, & extra thanks to those of you who reviewed or favorited or followed. Sorry for making you wait so long! I intend to finish this story, and I have the next... 11? chapters planned out. There's only 18 chapters and I think this is 7 but I'm too lazy to check right now so.

*I'm leaving for university in like 10 days so things will be crazy while I get settled in, but then I'll be back to posting!


	8. gold glitters on your lips

gold glitters on your lips

* * *

Things are… easier, after Tobirama's apology. He asks Hashirama to allow Mito to train – with the Uchiha, of course, because the Sharingan is the only power on earth able to subdue a raging Kurama if things go wrong – so Mito and Izuna meet daily to test the limits of her newfound strength and abilities. Her chakra control has always been perfect, her reserves deep enough, but with Kurama's aid they go down, down, down like the depths of the ocean, so deep she wonders if she will ever reach the bottom.

She and Tobirama aren't fighting anymore, and Mito should be happy. They're not fighting, and he's intervened on her behalf with Hashirama, and he's making an effort to be civil, at least, when discussing Kurama. But… He's been distant. Tobirama doesn't avoid her, but he doesn't seek her out, either. She feels lost, more so than when they were fighting, because she can't think of _why_ Tobirama is acting this way.

She mentions absentmindedly to Izuna at one of their post-training lunches, and he chokes on his ramen. Mito narrows her eyes. "Izuna-nii," she says faux-sweetly, "you'd tell me if you knew why Senju-sama is acting oddly, wouldn't you?"

Izuna wipes his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "Well," he says slowly, "I can't say that I know what's going through Senju's head. I don't think anyone does." It's clearly a lie – or at least, only a half-truth, which, Kurama adds cheerfully, is _worse, because he either thinks you're too dumb to see it or too demure to question him_ – but before Mito can say anything, Izuna continues. "I know how you can find out, though." He looks at his ramen longingly.

"How?"

"Ask him," Izuna says, as though it's the most logical thing in the world. He's already shoveling more ramen into his mouth.

"Ask him?" Mito repeats incredulously. "When has Senju-sama ever answered a question that he didn't want to? Asking him won't be enough." Izuna shrugs, still eating, and Mito frowns.

 _Kill him,_ Kurama suggests.

 _Which one?_ Mito shoots back.

Kurama chuckles, low and dangerous. _Why not both, little one?_ Even with the comradery they've built up over the past few weeks, Mito's not entirely sure Kurama is joking. He's inclined to violence at the best of times, and downright bloodthirsty at worst.

Izuna finishes slurping up his ramen. "Yes, ask him." He looks over at Mito, annoyed. "You two," he accuses, pointing his chopsticks at her, "need to learn how to communicate."

"Do you really think he'll answer if I ask?"

Izuna shrugs again. "One way to find out. You could always try shocking the truth out of him. Stop with all this 'Senju-sama, Senju-sama,' and call his name."

"That won't change anything, Izuna-nii. If anything, I'll make him uncomfortable." Mito sighs, looking away.

"Trust me, Mito. Please." Mito meets Izuna's gaze again. His dark eyes are steady, almost pleading. It's impossible to refuse him for long.

"Alright," Mito relents. "I'll ask him. And I'll consider being less formal with him, since you seem to believe that will make a difference."

"It will," Izuna says.

Mito wishes she shared his confidence.

* * *

Days pass before Mito sees Tobirama again. From the way Izuna watches her, gentle but a little disapproving, he knows she's relieved by Tobirama's extended absence. She has every intention of talking to Tobirama – of being direct, as Izuna advised – but she needs time to gather her thoughts, to decide what she's going to do.

 _Cowardice,_ Kurama murmurs, almost sleepily. There's no malice in his voice – there usually isn't, these days – but it hurts nonetheless. _You are Uzumaki Mito of Uzushio,_ he goes on, gentler, soothing as he feels her hurt. _What do you have to fear? Besides, I am with you._

 _I know,_ Mito whispers back. _And I am with you_.

Kurama doesn't say anything more, but he reaches out, his chakra warm and comforting as it entwines with hers. Mito takes a deep breath and sets her shoulders. It's time to find Tobirama, to find out what's changed between them and set it right. She _misses_ him, and it's not the same way she misses Uzushio and her family, but it's become an ache she can't ignore. How is it possible to feel so far away from someone in the same village?

Perhaps it's fate that she runs into him as soon as she leaves her room. Tobirama's hands catch her shoulders automatically, warm and steadying, and it's the most physical contact they've had in a long time. He steps back as soon as he's sure that she's steady on her feet, and Mito looks up at him, a smile already on her lips.

"I was just coming to find you," she says, then falls silent, unsure of what else to say. There's a look in his eyes that she can't quite decipher, a tension in the air that she doesn't remember being there before.

"Why?" Tobirama asks, his tone polite even if the question is a bit brusque. He's not looking at her, his gaze fixed determinedly on the ceiling. "Do you need something, Uzumaki-hime?"

Mito's heart sinks. She was right – Tobirama seems to be holding her at arms' length, and she can't think of a reason for this newfound distance between them. "Have I done something wrong?" she asks, her voice soft even in the quiet of the hallway. It feels like speaking too loudly will frighten him away, but this is _Tobirama_ , the Hokage's brother and most trusted shinobi, fearless and brave and…

And his eyes dart down to hers, just for a moment, and Mito wants to cry as he looks away again, his face impassive. "You haven't done anything wrong, Uzumaki-hime," he says, and she doesn't know if she's imagining it, but his voice sounds rough.

"Why are you being so formal?" Her hands hover in the space between them uncertainly. She wants to reach for him but doesn't know if her heart can stand to have him pull away. "Tobirama…"

She sees his eyes go wide as he finally, finally tilts his head down to look at her. Emboldened, she steps forward and lays her hand over his heart. She can feel it pounding, and her cheeks heat. His arms wrap around her waist, and he pulls her against him, gently and slowly, giving her time to step away.

She doesn't.

Instead, she presses closer, tilting her head up towards him. "Tobirama," Mito whispers again, and he lowers his head, pressing his lips to hers with agonizing gentleness.

Kissing Tobirama feels like coming home. It feels like walking along the shore by Uzushio while the gulls cry overhead. It feels like summer on her skin, like salt on her lips, like the waves crashing onto the sand. It feels a little like falling in love.

Then Tobirama recoils like he's been burned, jerking away from her. Mito stumbles, looking up as he wipes the back of his hand against his lips, staring at her with an expression that's almost wounded.

"Tobirama –" Mito reaches out for him, but he steps away, his eyes cold.

"Forgive me, Uzumaki-hime," he says stiffly. "That was inappropriate of me."

"I'm sorry," Mito says, and she thinks she might be crying. "I'm sorry, I didn't –" She meant to fix the distance between them, not create more, but as Tobirama walks away, she feels the space between them grow wider and wider.

He doesn't look back.

* * *

Mito doesn't leave her room the next day. Or the day after that. It feels, strangely, like those first days in Konoha, when Kurama was eating away at her from the inside, when she was lost and alone and afraid in a new country. Her heart aches, and she doesn't know how to make it stop. This time, though, she hasn't lost her home or her autonomy. She's lost only Tobirama. Somehow it hurts more – she'd lost Uzushio by no fault of her own, but for this, she has only herself to blame.

It's well after dark when he comes to see her, nearly two days after the beginning of her self-imposed exile. She knows it's Tobirama, feels the warmth of his chakra brush against her own, but Mito doesn't look up. She's cried enough over Senju Tobirama.

"I'm sorry," he says, and his voice is low and rough and weary, with the faintest tinge of sadness in it.

Despite herself, Mito looks up at him. Her heart drops into her stomach when she sees his face. There are deep bruises beneath his eyes, like he hadn't slept at all since he had kissed her.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," she says, but the words ring hollow even to her own ears. He walks to stand in front of her, and she has to look up to meet his gaze. "Senju-sama –"

"Don't," he interrupts. Then he grimaces, as if realizing how cold he sounds. "I –" His voice softens. "Please, call me Tobirama. I can't – I don't think I can bear to hear you call me anything else."

"Then," Mito hesitates. "I'm sorry, Tobirama. I only wanted to fix things, I didn't want to make them worse, I'm so, _so_ sorry –"

Tobirama grips her arms hard and pulls her flush against his chest. "Don't," he says again, and this time his voice is rough for a different reason. He slants his lips across hers, his hands on her arms tightening, hard enough that she can already feel it bruising, but then his tongue slides against her lower lip and all the breath leaves her lungs and it's all she can do to kiss him back.

She moans against his mouth and he presses her back into the wall, slides his hands down to grip her waist and pull her impossibly closer. She can feel every inch of him pressed against her, and his tongue in her mouth is making it hard to think –

Tobirama pulls back and presses his forehead against hers as they both try to catch their breath. "I love you," Mito says, breathless and snow-soft and honey-sweet and more honest than she's ever been. Her eyes are wide and startled but so, so trusting. She's not asking for anything in return, not expecting anything, and Tobirama's left bruises on her arms, left her lips kiss-swollen and – "I love you, Tobirama," she says again, and his breath catches. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know how to tell her, so Tobirama does the only thing he can.

He runs.

* * *

hello lovelies, welcome to the angst :))))

i'm not sure how i feel about this chapter but it's like midnight here and i have class in like six hours & i've literally only been living in this apartment for a week so i feel pretty accomplished and also exhausted, university is a big adjustment.

we're almost halfway! i'll try to update more consistently but i'm also taking a lot of credits so we'll see. as always, thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, favorited, or is still following this trash after months. i love u guys 3

also i have other stories so like... check them out. some are really crappy but some are ok and wow what happened to my writing style down here i used to use proper grammar and conventions and stuf s


	9. remember to breathe

remember to breathe

* * *

Summer comes, and Mito turns twenty. It's a quiet affair, celebrated only by herself and Izuna and Toka – she has no desire to tell Hashirama, and Madara keeps this one small secret at his little brother's request. Tobirama doesn't celebrate with them because Tobirama isn't in the village. He hasn't been for months, not since that disastrous night when he had kissed her. The knowledge leaves a foul taste in her mouth. He _left_. He left her, left her twice, because he ran from her and then ran from the village that same night, off on a "diplomatic mission" to Sunagakure, of all places. Mito wonders, not for the first time, how much he had to beg Hashirama to be allowed to go alone.

Spring has come and gone, the last of the snow melting and giving way to green trees and heat that will soon become unbearable without a sea-breeze to temper it. Tanabata is fast approaching. Mito helps with the preparations, folding paper cranes and hanging streamers. Izuna helps her, when he can, but the Uchiha have their own traditions, and as the Clan Heir, he spends the majority of his time with his kin or at the Uchiha temple.

"You're getting better at that," he comments, watching her deftly fold a paper crane. It's the day before the festival begins, and the whole town is alight with excitement – it's surprising that Izuna has been able to slip away, even if only for a few minutes.

"I feel as though I've folded a million," Mito confesses, holding her latest creation out to him. He takes it gently, his rough fingers brushing against her palm as he does. Mito sighs and tilts her head up to look at the sky. "Do you think it will rain tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure. It doesn't really matter; the festival will just be moved indoors."

"I know." Mito looks back at Izuna, something like a smile twisting her lips. "I just think it would be sad, if they weren't able to meet. The Cowherd and the Weaver-Girl. One night a year… I can't imagine the heartache." It's getting easier to, though. It's been more than half a year since Mito left Uzushio. Will she ever see Kenji again?

 _Peace, Mito,_ Kurama murmurs, low and steady. _You will see him again. I promise._

"I'm sure it will be clear," Izuna says softly. He rests his hand on her shoulder, a comforting touch. Perhaps he senses the direction of her thoughts, because he says, "My brother and the Hokage have been discussing sending some representatives to Uzushio, in a few months. Perhaps you and I can go."

Mito clings to his words like a lifeline. "Do you think Hokage-sama would allow it?"

"If I go with you, he can hardly protest." Something in Izuna's voice softens. "You're not a prisoner, Mito. Technically, you're a diplomat."

 _Diplomat_. Unofficially, Mito is the host of Konoha's greatest weapon: Kurama. She came to Konoha as a sacrifice, not a diplomat, and most everyone knows it. Kurama growls, but it's a half-hearted thing. Neither of them can muster up much anger anymore, only resignation.

"You're right," she says with false cheeriness. "I'm no more a prisoner here than I was in Uzushio." Albeit in a different manner – Kenshin had given her freedom to wander Uzushio without a guard, which is more than Mito can say for Hashirama and Madara. But a gilded cage is still a cage; at least Hashirama and Madara are honest and admit that they view her as a danger. Kenshin had hated her, feared her, but always quietly. He was cunning, her snake of a brother, and manipulative. Mito would be lying if she said she wasn't proud of him though; for all their arguments, for all his quiet rage, Mito loves Kenshin, almost as much as she loves Kenji. She'd die for her brothers, even now, even sold to Konoha and made their weapon.

Izuna watches her with dark eyes – he's careful to keep his Sharingan away from her; he knows it makes Kurama nervous, and Mito thinks it's sweet that he cares enough to forego the Sharingan. "Come on," he says, holding out a hand. He smiles crookedly. "You've folded enough cranes for today. Let's see if they've started tying wishes yet."

"They won't start until tomorrow," Mito protests. Even so, she takes Izuna's hand and lets him pull her through the village to the thicket of bamboo near the Senju compound. There aren't any wishes tied to the bamboo stalks yet, just as she'd said. Izuna produces two strips of paper and a brush and ink from his yukata.

He writes his wish first, in bold strokes: _I want to go to Uzushio with Mito-hime._ Izuna hangs his wish on the bamboo and hands the brush to her, his eyes expectant.

Mito takes the brush in shaking hands. What should she write? She's twenty now; she hasn't really celebrated Tanabata, or made any wishes, since her mother died, but… She never stopped believing. And it would be nice to believe in something, now. _Wish to go home,_ Kurama murmurs to her. _You could go back to Uzushio. That would make you happy._

 _Would it make you happy?_ she asks him. He doesn't answer – doesn't need to. Kurama is as trapped as she is, but going to Uzushio won't change anything for him. For a fleeting moment, Mito thinks about wishing for Tobirama to come back. But she wants to wish for something that will benefit Kurama as well; they're one, whether they like it or not, and she's grown fond of him. She taps the brush against her lips, then writes, _I want us to be happy._ She writes the characters of Kurama's name beneath the wish carefully, just to be sure that the wish goes to Kurama as well.

 _What a useless wish,_ he says, but he sounds pleased. She hangs the wish beside Izuna's. They watch the papers flutter in the wind for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," Izuna says at last. Mito looks up at him; he's staring at her wish, an odd expression on his face. "I know Konoha is different. I want you to be happy here, Mito." He turns to her, and his face is as serious as she has ever seen it. "I'll do my best to make sure you're happy. I promise." He turns back to the bamboo, and Mito slides her hand into his. It's improper – this whole thing is improper, sneaking away from the village to write wishes – but… Izuna squeezes her hand gently, and Mito wonders if maybe they both need this. Maybe Izuna feels just as trapped as she does. He's the only person in all of Konoha that understands her completely. Mito stands, her hand in his, and thinks that she is very lucky to have Kurama and Izuna. She doesn't know how she'd live without them.

* * *

It's a shame that Izuna has to be with the Uchiha – Konoha has been transformed for Tanabata, and even as Mito walks down the streets with Toka at her side, she feels Izuna's absence. The streets are lit with paper lanterns, and the paper cranes Mito had painstakingly folded are everywhere. Toka had Mito dress in a floral yukata, the pattern of red camellias much brighter than Toka's more subdued blue yukata. They wander through the crowd together, Toka occasionally commenting on the amount of newcomers – a sign of how quickly Konoha is growing – or laughing when they catch sight of Hashirama looking increasingly frazzled as he darts through the crowd with Madara on his heels. That makes Mito frown, because if Izuna has to be with the Uchiha, then why is Madara with Hashirama? But she supposes the Hokage is used to getting what he wants, to some extent, and given the lingering glances he and Madara are always exchanging, Madara is something Hashirama wants.

Mito has almost convinced herself that she can be happy like this, in Konoha with Toka and Kurama and Izuna, when she sees it: a glimpse of white hair, armor instead of a yukata. She freezes, but Toka's seen it too and drags her forward with strength that shouldn't be as surprising as it is, given who she is. The crowd parts for them, and after the long months of only picturing his face, Mito sees Tobirama.

His face is leaner, the angles of his face more prominent. He's lost weight while away. His eyes are just as keen as she remembers, scanning the crowd with a practiced eye, ever-vigilant of threats, even here in the heart of Konoha. One hand is on his sword, and there's a bandage wrapped around it, already stained red. His eyes pass over her without pausing to settle on Toka. There's warmth in his voice as he says, "Cousin."

Toka releases Mito and surges forward. Tobirama steps forward, as if to embrace her, right as her fist makes contact with his stomach. "Tobirama," she says, low and vicious and full of unspoken anger. She steps back, straightens even as Tobirama remains doubled over and coughing. She turns back to Mito and narrows her eyes. "Why don't we go see what Izuna is doing? I'm sure he's finished with his clan responsibilities by now." She takes Mito's hand and pulls her back into the crowd. Mito can't help but look over her shoulder at Tobirama. He's staring up at her – but there's no remorse in his expression, no affection, nothing of the man she saw the night he kissed her. The night he left. Mito tells herself, _I will not cry_ , and turns away from him to follow Toka deeper into the crowd.

* * *

hello lovelies!

this is shorter than usual, but I finally finished and wanted to just get it up before I collapse into bed because finals are killing me. i might edit later. or not. it's late here. words are hard. anyways, short chapter, but relevant to the plot, because tobirama is back now so yay

the next chapter will likely be closer to this length, since i'd like to get it up more quickly, and then in 11 the true Angst (tm) begins. isn't family drama the best :))))))) that wasn't a comment on my life that was a hint about what's coming :))))))))

reviews make me want to write more so if you'd like another chapter before i spontaneously combust because of exams, leave a lil note :) just a lil one :) it makes me happy


	10. we were always fragile beings

we were always fragile beings

* * *

The night of the Tanabata festival, Mito stays at the Uchiha compound. She and Toka and Izuma sleep all together in one of the bigger rooms. It's highly improper, Mito knows, and once the mere suggestion of sleeping in the same room as a man would have had her flushing. But Toka is there, and Izuna is practically a brother to her, and it's not like any of her family is in Konoha to be ashamed of her actions.

Madara wakes them early in the morning, bursting into the room while loudly commending Izuna on his ability to bed two women at once. There's a grin on his face that isn't entirely without maliciousness – luckily, any ill will is directed at the Clan Elders, huddled within sight through the doorway. Their disapproval is an almost tangible thing. It makes Kurama preen. He delights in upsetting humans for reasons Mito doesn't even pretend to understand. Toka grumbles something rude and trudges out of the room. Mito makes to follow her, but Madara stops her with a hand on her shoulder. "Mito," he says, and the lack of honorific is surprising, but his voice isn't without warmth. "About Tobirama…" She flinches, and Madara squeezes her shoulder. "Stay strong." His hand falls, and Mito blinks up at him. His eyes are black for once, not spinning with the Sharingan that haunts her and Kurama's shared dreams. It's the nicest thing he's ever said to her, and the most sincere he's looked.

Mito wets her lips with her tongue. "Thank you, Uchiha-sama," she says softly. "I am grateful for your encouragement." And then she slips out after Toka, ignoring the way the Elders' whispers have changed from derogatory to hopeful. She's seen the way Madara looks at Hashirama. A hand on her shoulder means nothing in the face of that devotion. The Elders will learn soon enough that their hopes for an heir should rest on Izuna.

By the time Mito finally finds her way out of the Uchiha Compound, Toka is nowhere in sight. She's absentminded when tired – Mito hopes she makes it back to the Senju without incident. Mito finds herself walking the opposite direction. She knows she must look a complete mess, her hair loose and her yukata unchanged from the night before, but she can't bring herself to care. The rain that threatened to fall earlier in the week has finally begun, and the sky is a soft grey. Mito tilts her face up to the rain. The cool air caresses her cheeks, catches her hair in the breeze. The raindrops on her face are a poor substitute for sea spray, and yet… It's more than she's had in a long while, this little taste of home. She feels… if not happy, at peace. Content.

And then, the faintest sound, a hint of movement at the edge of her line of sight. Mito looks towards the interruption, her hand falling to her side only to realize she has no kunai, no weapons of any kind. She raises her hands to make a seal but freezes halfway through the first one as her eyes finally find the source of the movement.

"I didn't mean to alarm you," Tobirama says, his voice low.

Her hands lower of their own accord. "You didn't," she says, and her voice sounds too quiet, too trembling in the still clearing. Here, without the shock of seeing him back in Konoha after so many long weeks, Mito allows herself to drink in the sight of Tobirama. His hair is rain-wet and sticks to his cheeks. There's a new scar across his cheek, faint but visible, and she wants to reach out and touch it, trace his every wound and let them fade to nothing beneath her skin. She wants him to forget his hurts in her arms, wants to forget the nights she spent wide awake and worried for him.

She doesn't move. Tobirama shifts on his feet, as though he's going to take a step towards her, then rocks back on his heels. "You look well." He runs a hand through his hair, and Mito wishes it was her hand. He works his jaw, then adds, "How is Kurama?" And Mito's heart _breaks_ , because he's back and he's trying, he cares about her enough to try to understand Kurama, enough to come back to her –

Kurama snarls, low and angry. _This excuses nothing,_ he tells her. _He_ left _, Mito. He doesn't get to come back like this. Can you really forgive him so easily? Harden your heart, daughter of the sea, and do not forget your strength._

It _hurts_ , to listen to Kurama, but Mito knows he's right. Tobirama left her, without a word or an apology, and while she is little more than a prisoner of Konoha, despite Hashirama and Madara and Izuna's attempts to soften her standing, she is also Uzumaki Mito of Uzushio, and she does not deserve this humiliation, no matter what her feelings are. Mito takes a deep, shuddering breath and sets her shoulders. _This is just another mask,_ she tells herself. _Another role to play._ "We are well, Senju-sama." It's an effort to keep her voice cold, to keep it from shaking. Tobirama does take a step towards her, then, and there's something in his expression that's so tender and painful, and Mito doesn't want to name it. She takes a step back, almost stumbling in her haste. Part of her wants to reach out to him, but there's a larger part – one that sounds suspiciously like Kurama – that wants to curl up somewhere to lick her wounds. Tobirama _left_ her. He doesn't get to come back and act like he's the one with a broken heart.

Tobirama jerks to a halt, like a puppet on strings. He mouths her name, _Mito_ , and what she wouldn't give to hear him say it aloud. There's a moment of silence, the two of them standing there, the rain still falling and soaking through to the bone. "Uzumaki-hime," Tobirama says, and his voice is rough. Mito's eyes blur with tears – or is it only rain? – as she shakes her head. She can't find her voice, but Tobirama must understand, because his expression shutters and in a whirl of leaves, he vanishes.

And just like that, Mito is alone again.

* * *

heyyyy guys!

i'm going to be honest, i've had most of this written for like a solid week, but then shit happened and i didn't get around to posting it! better late than never though, i guess. this is kind of a shorter chapter but things have been Rough so hopefully everyone's chill with that. i'll try to have the next chapter up by mid february, and some shit goes down in that so look forward to it if u want. but ch 12 is where it gets lit and once we get there we'll be 2/3 done! so there's that

thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, favorited etc. you guys are great. also, if anyone's going through anything Rough, just keep your head up & remember that it's ok (and encouraged) to cry, as long as you drink lots of water during & after so that you don't get a dehydration headache. & make sure to get lots of sleep too & rubbing ice on your face makes it less obvious that you've cried because it takes down the swelling ok unsolicited lesson time is over i love you guys bye

oh and also ollia: I had Kurama reveal his name quickly because Mito asked. Naruto didn't ask, didn't really try to develop a relationship with Kurama, until after he met Killer B and talked to Son Goku. My version of Uzushio is much more in touch with the spiritual, so Mito is willing to see Kurama as a living being with free will that has been abruptly taken from him. She feels for him, and she feels like him, so their relationship is very different from his relationship with Naruto in the manga.


	11. kiss the withering trees

kiss the withering trees

* * *

By the time Mito makes it back to the Senju compound, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. Mist hangs heavy over the village, and while it's unusual, the chill is welcome. It reminds Mito of home, of a childhood spent on the foggy seashore, of Uzushio in all its shining glory. Kurama is quiet in the back of her mind, as emotionally exhausted as she is, albeit for different reasons. He doesn't share her feelings, but they affect him nonetheless.

So drained is Mito that she almost doesn't notice Madara – he's leaning beside the door, wearing his armor, which is unusual, given the time of day. All his meetings with Hashirama and the Uchiha Elders should have ended hours ago; night is falling heavy on the horizon. For Madara to be here at this hour… Something is wrong.

"Mito." His voice is low and soft, practically a caress, and yet... There's something harsh beneath. Something like worry in his dark eyes. "Toka is waiting with a _furisode_ for you."

"Why?" Mito wavers in the doorway, unsure. There's something wrong, but she doesn't know what. Why does it matter what she wears? At least it's not an immediate danger, if Madara is taking the time to get her dressed, but still…

Madara lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. He grabs her elbow – not roughly, but not trying to be gentle, either – and pulls her inside, then leads her towards Toka's room. "I'll explain when I can, Mito. Just clean yourself up, and I'll take you to Hashirama. Please," he adds when she attempts to protest. " _Please,_ Mito. I promise that I will explain. Right now, making you presentable is more important." He pushes her into Toka's room, and immediately Toka is helping her out of her _yukata_ , her movements quick but sure.

Mito wants to ask her what's going on, but she knows Toka's answer will be the same as Madara's. She focuses on tying her _obi_ as Toka pulls her hair up and secures it. They work silently, a sense of urgency bleeding into their movements even though Mito is still woefully underprepared for whatever Hashirama is going to tell her. Outside, the wind picks up, the rain falling heavy again. It doesn't remind Mito of home anymore – now it seems some portend of awful things to come.

And then she's back in the hallway with Madara, Toka murmuring a quiet _good luck_ behind her as Madara half-drags her to Hashirama's receiving room.

The first thing Mito registers is white: Tobirama, standing across the room, his face pale and his hair catching the firelight; Hashirama, dressed in white and without armor, looking exhausted. And across from Hashirama… Red. Crimson among all the white, like blood on the snow. A red-haired man, broad-shouldered and resplendent in bronze armor. He turns to Mito, and she _knows_ that smirk, knows every cruel line of that face.

 _I can't breathe._ Her knees give out, and it's only Madara's arm wrapping around her waist that keeps her from falling. An improper gesture, especially given the man who stares at Mito, his eyes the blue of the sea during a storm. It's all she can do to murmur, " _Kenshin_ ," half-fear, half-exultation.

He crosses the room to her, and Madara steps back, leaving Mito to stand on her own strength. She falters, but Kenshin is there, a hand on her cheek, grounding her. He hasn't loved her since they were children, since their father died and they were thrown against each other in the quiet battle for succession. But he is still a piece of home, and he still smells of sea salt and sea roses. He must feel Kurama's chakra rising in her, because it's _choking her_ – Kurama responding to her fear in the only way he can – but Kenshin doesn't recoil, just smooths a thumb across her cheek and drinks her in, his expression softer than she has ever seen it.

"My Mito," he whispers, and Mito chokes out a breath that turns into a sob. "I have so much to atone for." He rests his forehead against hers, pulls her closer to him. She goes willingly, collapsing against him. She's dimly aware of the tears streaming down her cheeks, from relief or pain or something else, she doesn't know. Her heart _aches_ , but Kenshin is here, and he's holding her, and for the first time since her father died, Mito thinks that maybe things will be alright.

And then Kenshin says, "It's time to come home, Mito."

Her knees threaten to give out again, and this time Madara isn't close enough to catch her. Foreign strength fills her limbs, stops her trembling and keeps her upright – Kurama, his power filling her. He's silent, still, but she can feel the anger bleeding from him into her even as he helps her to stand. She hadn't known that his strength could ever be more than chakra, and yet – she's not standing; Kurama is. He's holding her body up, stepping back from Kenshin so that she can see his face. Dimly, Mito's aware of the tears slipping down her cheeks, hot against her cool cheeks. "Home?" she repeats.

"I was wrong to send you away," Kenshin murmurs. His hand falls from her cheek, squeezes her shoulder instead. "But I'm here now, to make things right. You can come home, Mito; you can see Uzushio and Kenji again. You can come _home_."

Mito struggles to find words. Kurama is silent when she needs him most, completely focused on keeping her upright and breathing. It's Tobirama who breaks the silence, cold and sharp, truly a weapon for Konoha. "By whose authority would she leave?"

Kenshin turns to him, and Mito has not seen her brother in months, but she is still familiar with his anger. She can see it in the rigidness of his shoulders, the tension in his jaw. "By mine," he says. "Mito is my sister and heir. I am the Kage of Uzushio; why shouldn't I bring her home?"

"She is also the Jinchuuriki of Konoha." Mito cannot see Tobirama, but she imagines he is smiling. It is not a nice smile; too cold and insincere. _They say the same about you_ , she'd told him once. More damning, the words she hadn't said. _They call you a monster. They are not wrong._ She imagines that he is smiling like Senju Tobirama, the man who is a monster, a predator in human skin. Tobirama says, "Have you forgotten that you cast her aside and sold her to Konoha?" Mito looks away; she doesn't want to see Kenshin's reaction, doesn't want to see any of it. She doesn't want to be here anymore. She doesn't know if _here_ means this room or this village.

"Tobirama," Hashirama says, softly. There is a sound, a step towards Tobirama, and then skin against skin, and Madara makes a pained noise.

"No," Tobirama growls. "You can't – he can't just come and take her away." He, too, sounds pained, and Mito squeezes her eyes shut, as though that will help her forget. She remembers seeing him, last night, this morning, and thinks, _I should have forgiven him._ And then she realizes her decision is made; it has been since she saw Kenshin.

 _No,_ Kurama protests, speaking for the first time tonight. _Mito, my soul-bonded. You will go home someday, but not like this. You are not subject to the desires of any man. I am your strength; lean on me._

 _I have,_ she tells him. _I will. We will always be together, Kurama; in Konoha or Uzushio or somewhere else, it makes no difference._

 _Somewhere else. Let us go somewhere else. Somewhere no one will know us. A cottage by the sea, far from brothers or wars or anyone who knows what we are._ She has never heard Kurama this desperate, and for a moment, Mito is tempted. It is a lonely life, that Kurama suggests, but it is a life with the two of them, together and happy and –

 _How could I give you freedom without freeing you truly?_ Mito asks him. _If I could carve you out of my body and release you I would._

 _It would kill you._

 _I would do it, for you. If you asked me to. I would not hold this back from you._

Kurama sounds tired and ancient when he murmurs, _I would not ask you for that, Mito._ There is a pause, a feeling like fondness, or sadness, or something in between. _Let us go to Uzushio, then. I would like to see the sea again, I think._

Mito opens her eyes, and she is aware of everything all at once: shouting, from Madara and Tobirama and Kenshin; Hashirama, slumped against the wall, his face drawn and exhausted; Tobirama, his cheeks flushed with anger, his hands clenched as though he will strike her brother.

And then, he does. Mito doesn't hear what her brother says, to incite the action, but judging by the way Madara's jaw tenses and he makes no move to stop Tobirama, it's not undeserved. Still, Mito flinches as Tobirama's fist makes contact with Kenshin's cheek.

There's no hesitation; Kenshin lunges for Tobirama. He's not an experienced fighter, not in close quarters, and not with hand-to-hand combat, but he hits Tobirama's stomach with enough force that he grunts, low and pained. For all that Tobirama is a swordsman, he's also a fighter, trained from childhood, and he recovers quickly, and sends Kenshin reeling back with a bloody nose. Kenshin may be the Namikage, but he's also a scholar, and Uzushio is a peaceful village. Her brother is not a fighter on par with Tobirama.

Still, Mito can only watch, frozen. She knows she needs to step in, to stop Tobirama. Kenshin is bleeding, and still shows no sign of stopping. But it's not until Madara moves towards Kenshin that Mito steps forward.

Kurama's chakra has been building in her since Tobirama threw that first punch, and now she lets it bleed out into the air, roiling and malevolent and so thick it casts a red sheen on the room. "Stop," she says, and everything does. Hashirama is gaping at her, and Madara's face is grim, but she thinks she sees a glimmer of pride in his eyes. Tobirama has a bruise blooming on his cheek, and Kenshin's nose is dripping blood, but everything is still. "I will go to Uzushio." Her hands are trembling, so she hides them in the sleeves of her _furisode_. "I cannot unbind the seals that keep the Kyuubi within me. But when Konoha has need of its Jinchuuriki, I will come. Is that enough?" It is Madara, not Hashirama, that she addresses. She knows he hears the tremor in her voice, just as she knows he will overlook her weakness, just this once.

"It is enough," he says quietly, holding her gaze. She rather likes his eyes, she thinks, when they are dark. The absence of the Sharingan is almost soothing. He has pretty eyes, heavy-lidded and framed by thick lashes. She thinks, _if Madara asked me to marry him, Kenshin would let me stay._ Even Kenshin would not risk offending the Uchiha, no matter what his reasons for bringing her home are. But she knows it is a useless wish; Madara's eyes are on her now, but she cannot hold his attention. Even now, his gaze falls to Hashirama, and she is left empty and alone with the reality of her decision.

"You've made the right choice," Kenshin tells her. His voice is muffled. Mito thinks his nose is broken. Hashirama could heal it; she thinks he won't. She forces a smile, and doesn't look up, even as she feels the weight of Tobirama's eyes on her. She doesn't want to see his expression. _I should have forgiven him,_ she thinks again. And then, _I am making the right choice._

 _Aren't I?_

* * *

heyyy guys look at this! an update that doesn't take months! i have had so much caffeine today!

also someone commented last chapter that mito & tobirama are too old for this immature thing between them & i agree but also... the drama, u know? also mito is basically still nineteen bc she barely turned twenty & i just feel like she's emotional about tobirama always bc [ s] and rejection hurts, hot damn.. also literally many chapters ago someone asked why tobirama just up and ran after kissing her and tbh idk he's kind of an ass and he felt guilty about kissing her because its old time-y japan and they're not betrothed or married or some shit so he was like oops i fked up and then he dealt with emotions in true tobirama fashion by running away from them. same bro.

anwys thanks all for reading & commenting & following, etc, the support means a lot to me! i will hopefully be less rambly in my next note and also i haven't proofread this at all so maybe i'll get around to editing but also it's midterms at uni so we'll see

next chapter will hopefully be up soon because i'm excited to write it! prepare for feelings! also drop me a comment if u feel like it i enjoy them 3


	12. flowers in your hair

flowers in your hair

* * *

The downpour starts late in the night and continues through the day without stopping. Tobirama knows because he hasn't slept – he spent the night staring out at the rain, his heart heavy in his chest. _I will go to Uzushio_ , he hears, over and over again. _I will go, I will go, I will go_ , with every beat of his aching heart. Mito is leaving, and whatever she has promised, Tobirama knows that she will never come back. Kenshin sent her to Konoha to remove a political rival, and now he needs her support. Mito is a veritable princess of Uzushio, and her people will not let her leave again.

Hashirama lays a hand on Tobirama's shoulder. His brother's voice is soft as he says, "Maybe this is for the best, Tobirama. She wasn't happy here."

Madara snorts. "And you think she will be happy in Uzushio, under her brother's thumb?" He's pacing the room, has been since they assembled this morning to greet Kenshin. Toka and Izuna are showing him Konoha in all its rain-drenched glory – Mito, Izuna said, hasn't left her room since the night before.

"He's not clever enough to manipulate her," Tobirama says. There's no heat behind it, though. All the anger had drained out of him last night, when he heard those awful, echoing words. _I will go_.

It's strange, to have Madara acting as the rational one. His voice is even and his eyes steady and dark as he says, "He's not. But Mito is young and, for all her intelligence, emotional; more so now that she is bound to the Kyuubi. Didn't you see her last night? She wants to please her brother, no matter the cost. To feel wanted is a powerful thing." His gaze sharpens, like he knows exactly why Tobirama left the village. Like he knows about that gods-damned kiss and how he had all but thrown himself at Mito without making her any promises, and then left her like the coward he is. _I will go. I will go_.

"I'm sorry, Tobirama," Hashirama says. He sounds so, so tired. Tobirama can see the guilt on his face – Tobirama is the last of Hashirama's younger brothers, and he knows Hashirama only wishes happiness for him. That doesn't make it any easier to bear; Hashirama's love was enough for Tobirama, once, but now he feels emptied out. Numb.

"Izuna offered to marry her," Madara says. "He thinks Kenshin wouldn't be able to refuse an alliance between the Uzumaki and the Uchiha."

It's like being doused in cold water. If Mito leaving hurts, then this… This is unbearable. "Izuna –"

"He's not going through with it," Madara cuts him off. "Mito said she wouldn't take that happiness from him. She's determined to return to Uzushio without incident."

"And you're going to let her go?" Tobirama looks at his brother, and for the first time since they were children, since his younger brothers died, he lets desperation leak into his voice. "Please." He hates how raw his voice sounds, hates the way it breaks. " _Please_ , brother."

Hashirama shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says again. He reaches out, but Tobirama is already out the door.

* * *

The rain is still coming down in thick sheets when Kenshin slips into Mito's room. His crimson hair is rain-slick and sticking to his cheeks. She looks away as he settles next to her, his wet sleeve barely brushing hers. "Do you remember?" he asks her, and in his voice she can hear the echo of her father's, low and sweet and achingly familiar. "When we were children, and father fell ill."

"We spent the whole night in his room, you and me and Kenji." Mito tilts her head, lets it rest against his shoulder. "Kenji fell asleep on my lap."

"You were always his favorite," Kenshin murmurs.

"And you were always father's," Mito counters. "Kenji needed a mother. He's always loved you, too."

Kenshin hums, considering. "You were father's darling." Where once there would have been an accusation, there isn't even a trace of bitterness. They are older now, she and Kenshin, changed by the loss of their father and the weight of the responsibilities that settle heavy on their shoulders.

Mito sighs, sits up straight again and turns to look at him. Kenshin is beautiful in profile, even half-drowned from the rain and bruised from last night's altercation. "Father loved me," she agrees, "but you were his hope for Uzushio. Whatever anyone else says, he always intended for Uzushio to pass to you. Even you can't deny that."

They lapse into silence, Kenshin watching the rain and Mito watching him. The minutes stretch on, the only sound his breathing, low and even, and the constant rain. And then, abruptly, Kenshin stands. "I shouldn't have sent you away," he says, more to himself than to her. "I shouldn't have sent you here." He paces the room, and Mito remains where she is, still and cautious. In the back of her mind, Kurama stirs, interested and faintly anxious. Kenshin stills, takes a deep breath. He looks so much older than Mito remembers, and somehow so incredibly young at the same time. Vulnerable. "Do you want to come back?" he asks her. "Do you want to go back to Uzushio?"

 _Tell him the truth,_ Kurama urges, quiet and soft, barely a whisper in her mind.

Mito hesitates – and she knows Kenshin sees that hesitation for what it is. For all their differences, he's always been able to read her best. "I miss the ocean," she tells him. "I miss the sand and the salt and the sea. I miss Kenji. I miss you."

He sighs, heavy and resigned. "Mito."

"I've already given you my word, Kenshin. I will go back to Uzushio." She closes her eyes, feels the hot sting of tears behind her eyelids. "Please don't ask me to lie to you."

Soft, hesitant footsteps, and then Kenshin presses his lips against her forehead. Mito opens her eyes, blinks in surprise, but his back is already to her. "I'm sorry, Mito," he says, pausing in the doorway. He doesn't look back. "Maybe – Maybe it's for the best. You can come home, and forget everything here." He slips into the hallway, quiet as a wraith, and Mito is alone again.

The silence looms. Kurama withdraws to the far recess of her mind, quiet and gloomy. She wonders if it's her mood affecting him or the other way around. The room feels too large without Kenshin, too empty and dark. She wishes, desperately, wildly, to go back to the days before she left Uzushio. She wants, just once more, to feel her father's arms around her. To hear his voice calling her name, to see his fond smile one last time.

Mito thinks of Uzushio, of its shining buildings and turquoise waves and the gulls shrieking overhead. She thinks of the sand beneath her bare feet, of flowers braided into her long hair, of Kenji running out into the waves. She misses it – she misses Uzushio, misses Kenji, misses the carefree days of her youth. She misses the childhood that she was forced to abandon. But –

 _I don't want to go back_ , she confesses to Kurama. _I don't want to leave._

His answer is a caress. _I know, little one._ A pause, and then – _You are stronger now. You can decide for yourself. You can fight for what you want._

 _He is my brother_ , Mito tells Kurama. _I gave him my word. He is offering me everything I wanted._

 _You are different now. We are different. It is up to you, Mito. I would go anywhere with you. Decide which path to take – which path you can live with._ Kurama retreats again, back to whatever corner of her mind has become his home. He leaves her with a feeling of warmth, though, and brightness. Something like hope, maybe.

Sighing, Mito pulls her _haori_ tighter around herself. She has a few days before they leave for Uzushio – she has time to decide, time to convince Kenshin to let her stay. Or time for Madara and Hashirama to convince Kenshin. Mito is not accustomed to trusting other people to act for her, but Madara… For all his darkness, regardless of Kurama's fear of the sharingan, she trusts him.

Resolved, she stands. If anyone can help her say in Konoha, it's Madara. Mito walks to the door and slides it open and –

And her breath catches in her throat. Tobirama stands in front of her, his chest heaving, with bruises under his eyes and a split lip. He is achingly beautiful, even with a red bruise blooming on his cheek and blood smeared down the side of his neck. He smells of alcohol and rain. His voice is rough and broken when he says, "Marry me, Mito."

* * *

wow apparently i'm incapable of updating when i say i'm going to. in my defense, i had finals, i had to move, and then i had a show, so. it's been crazy.

but hey! we only have six chapters left! this one is a lil shorter than i wanted it to be, but i wanted to update, and more is coming! i leave for greece in a month, so there won't be any updates in july and the first bit of august, but i'll try to get as much up as i can before i leave. who knows, maybe i'll be crazy and finish it in the next couple weeks. as always, thanks so much for reading! it means a lot to me, and your reviews cheer me up whenever i'm having a bad day, i literally come back and reread them all the time. also! do you guys want the rating to stay t and be vague or go up to m and be less vague? asking for future shenanigans. i've never actually posted smutty things but i am totally down to if that's something people want


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